


The Knight's Quest

by chibi_nightowl



Series: The Adventures of Sir Timothy Drake [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Drama, Humor, Knights - Freeform, Magic, Multi, Romance, Unconventional Marriage Proposals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: Sir Timothy Drake never wanted to be a knight. But when his parents send him off on a quest to slay a dragon, what else was he to do? Of course, said dragon has his own thoughts on the matter and his counterproposal is much more enticing than a fiery death.





	1. The Unconventional Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on my tumblr as a thanks to the wonderful @curdleddoodle who drew the wonderful art for the end of Masquerade and the dragon chart for To Rise Above. Thank you my dear!!

_Part One_

Sir Timothy Drake did not sign up for this sort of a quest. Sure, knights went on quests all the time according to the stories, but he never wanted to be a knight in the first place. His mother insisted though and what his mother wanted, she got, even if her son was woefully ill suited for it. He tried, he really did, and Sir Richard did his best to train him in ways that played to his strengths, but when it came down to it, Tim was not made to be a typical knight. 

Full plate armor just looked completely and utterly ridiculous on him. He could barely move under the added weight so he tried chainmail and had some success there. It wasn’t that Tim was tiny, it was just that he was built lean; even years at working with swords and other weapons of war, he could still be overcome by sheer brute force. However, this was where his own talents came into play. Thanks to Dick’s training, he was fast, agile, and there was no one in the land who could beat him when there was a quarterstaff within reach. 

It still wasn’t enough for the Duke and Duchess of House Drake. Their son needed to be the perfect heir, skilled in the art of war, as well as diplomacy and strategy. Which he was, if all the accolades heaped on him by King Bruce meant anything. The fact he’d rather be outdoors or in his workroom didn’t matter to his parents. His hobbies and passions were quite different from the typical scion of a noble house. 

Those interests seemed to be how Tim found himself in this situation, riding his mighty steed (an extremely smart mare he named Robin, much to Dick’s delight) towards what he was certain would be a quick death. A dragon. His parents wanted him to slay a dragon and prove his worth as their heir.  

As though they had other heirs laying around, ready to pick up and dust off. 

Tim shook his head for the umpteenth time. It didn’t get any easier to stomach the thought. He was positive this was his mother’s revenge for Dick hiring the foreign Lady Shiva to secretly teach him hand-to-hand all those years ago. Her anger burned cold and long, much like his was bound to do if he ever made it out of this mess alive. 

If he made it home, he was bound and determine to find some way to send his mother packing. She was from the south, perhaps she'd like to spend some time with her family again and leave Tim be. The thought kept him entertained as he rode closer to his doom.

He didn't know exactly where the dragon's lair was, but there were enough rumors floating around that Tim was positive there was one in the area. Instinct had him riding further and further into the wilderness, far off the beaten path. Not that there were many around here besides game trails, but if there was one thing Tim had learned over the course of his life, it was to trust his gut. His instincts never failed him.

And they said he was close.

That night, Tim sat before his campfire, eating what he’d started thinking of as his last supper. There were worse things than rabbit, he decided. When he was done, he reached into his saddlebags to take out his journal, a pen, and an ink jar to jot down his final thoughts. Writing helped clear his head as it was often the only way he could express himself properly. Perhaps some poor soul will find it one day and spare a thought for the deceased.

He settled against his saddle, angling himself so that the light from the fire illuminated the pages. His journal contained equal parts musings and observations, as well as ideas and diagrams for things he’d never get a chance to try and build. It was pissing him off to the point where he couldn’t write. He threw he pen down onto the matted grass by his fire. The snap and hiss of crackling wood did nothing to help his mood, reminding him yet again that he was _here_ in this dark forest about to meet a fiery death.

“Do my parents honestly think I’m coming home?” Tim muttered rhetorically as he flipped through the pages of his journal, trying and failing to remember the joy he'd felt when he started to really study birds and flight instead of simply wondering about it. “Seriously,  _a dragon_. It’s not like people come home after a confrontation with one.” 

“I’ll say. Sounds like they’re a bit touched in the head.” The voice came out of nowhere and Tim jerked up, dropping his journal and reaching for his staff. 

“Who’s there?” he barked. 

The voice snorted in amusement and for a brief moment, the scent of brimstone overpowered the curling woodsmoke of his small fire. A man strode out of the darkness, toeing the ring of light cast by the flickering flames.

Tim stood his ground, cautious as it was readily apparent he wasn’t dealing with a bandit or some other hooligan. For one, they wouldn’t be so well dressed, a black leather jacket paneled by red, trailing down over strong legs and finely crafted boots. The man wasn’t visibly armed, but he didn’t need to be in order to be dangerous. However, it was his eyes that Tim couldn’t stop staring at. Such an incredible shade of blue, vibrant like a sapphire, and something he shouldn’t be able to see this clearly with the shadows surrounding them. 

They were glowing with their own inner light. 

“What are you?” Tim amended his original question. 

“Just passing through and saw your fire,” the man replied with a roguish smirk and blatantly ignoring Tim’s second question. “It’s rare to see anyone in these parts. There’s a dragon not too far from here. People tend to stay away.” 

Tim sighed, unable to stop himself. “I know. I’m not too keen on throwing my life away trying to battle it either.” 

The man cocked his head to the side, never once blinking as he stared at him over the fire. “Then why are you here?” 

That was a question Tim’s been asking himself for well over a month now. None of the answers he’d come up with are at all satisfying. “Family duty, I suppose. I’m the only heir of a small duchy, and my parents seem to believe that if their son becomes a dragonslayer, then a beneficial marriage offer will finally come their way.” He made a face at that, clearly expressing his thoughts on  _that_  matter. It would not surprise him in the slightest if his mother was holding out for Helena, King Bruce's and Queen Selina's only daughter. Like that was ever going to happen. They were much better matched as friends than lovers.

“Bitter much?” 

Tim can’t help the dark laughter that rises from the pit of his own internal despair. “You could say that. I have my own dreams to achieve and going off on a pointless quest isn’t one of them.” 

The man’s laugh matched his and he took a step closer to the fire. The light struck his face, revealing chiseled features and a strong jaw that made Tim purposefully lock his knees to keep them from shaking. The only other man he’d ever seen who could even come close to being this handsome was Sir Richard and he refused to make an ass out of himself by falling on his face. This person couldn’t possibly be human though because human eyes didn’t glow or have slits down the center for pupils. Inky black hair fell in disheveled waves over his forehead.  

He tightened the grip on his staff, even as he wondered what kind of a chance he stood against whatever this person was. Tim considered himself well-read and knew the characteristics of all the races that lived in this world, even if he’d only ever met elves and dwarves on occasion when he traveled outside the duchy. He’d even met a halfling once, and laughed all night while she cheated outrageously at cards.  

But none of them had eyes that glowed like this. None of them had the hint of curled horns rising out of their hair either. 

“Then let me ask a different question then,” the man stated. “If you’re so sure you’re gonna die, then why bother? You could use this chance to do whatever you want, go wherever, and not have to worry about what your parents think ever again.” 

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about that either,” Tim replied. “But it comes down to duty. I’ve spent all my life trying to make my parents happy and perhaps this will finally be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

“That’s all well and good, but what about the dragon? He didn’t come lookin’ for a fight. Maybe he’s just tryin’ to do his own thing too, living his own life.” His hand shifted, adjusting a strap on his shoulder and Tim realized the man was carrying a rather large bundle on his back. He also brought up a really good point.

“I never thought of it that way,” he admitted. “My home is sorely lacking in dragon lore, so I’m not even certain how intelligent they are. Do you know then? Since you seem to live around here.” 

The man’s lips twisted into a grin, the sharp points of very white canines catching the light from the fire. “I can assure you, the dragon is  _very_  intelligent. Much more than puny humans.” 

Tim’s hands were starting to ache from the tight grip on his staff, so he consciously loosened them. This was getting him nowhere. “Look, I don’t know who you are, or what you are, but you don’t seem like you want to kill me, so sit down and take a load off. That bag looks heavy.” He pointedly sat down on the ground, even though he kept his staff close. 

His actions seemed to surprise the man as he again cocked his head to the side to stare at him curiously, like  _Tim_  was the fascinating and new creature to study. After a moment, he set a very bulky and heavy looking bag down and sat next to it.  

Tim picked up a stick and poked at the coals, causing them to crackle and pop before they settled down again. This whole situation was feeling a bit surreal. It wasn’t like him to be so open in front of a complete stranger, let alone one who looked like a cross between a demon and an elf. There were butterflies in his stomach, and not just because of his upcoming face-off with a dragon. He sighed and caught the man’s eyes again. “I don’t normally do this,” he offered. “I’m just…nervous I guess. I’ve been in life and death situations before, don’t get me wrong, but this time…it just seems so pointless. At least the other times were in defense of my home and my people.” 

The man nodded in agreement. “Your parents are a real piece of work, aren’t they?” 

“Understatement.” Tim reached over to his saddlebags and pulled out a flagon of wine he’d picked up in the last town he’d visited. He took a sip and handed it to the man. “Here,” he said. “I was going to drink to my health tonight, but it seems rather silly now.” 

“What are you gonna do if you don’t die tomorrow?” the man asked, accepting the wine and taking a sip of his own.  

“Probably keel over from the shock of it.” No matter how Tim looked at it, he was going to be dead by tomorrow evening. “It’s nice of you to think positively, but come on. It’s a dragon. And I’m not exactly the knight in shining armor from the stories.” He gestured deprecatingly at himself.  

The man’s eyes glowed even more brightly as he raked them up and down Tim’s lean frame. “No, you’re not,” he agreed after a long moment. “The stories are overrated anyway. So what are your plans for attacking a dragon?” 

Tim shook his head, swallowing down the wave of despair that washed over him at the question. “I’ve no idea. Just wingin’ it, I guess.” 

“Now there’s a plan.” The man winked at him, took another sip of wine, and handed the flagon back to Tim. The nails on his hand were dark and long like the ladies in the Queen's court could only dream of. 

“Tell me about it.” Tim swallowed down a large mouthful of the fruity wine. It tasted more like juice than fermented grapes, but who was he to judge at this point in time? Still, he would have liked to be at least a little muddleheaded when he finally passed out. Or not, it was his last night on earth after all. A bed companion would be nice, but he was pretty certain the man sitting on the other side of the small fire was more than he wanted to tango with tonight.  

But what a way to go. 

“Seriously though, the dragon is smart,” the man spoke. “And you don’t seem like a complete dummy either. Misguided perhaps, but that’s typical of humans, I’ve noticed.” 

“Definitely a character flaw,” Tim agreed, wondering yet again exactly what this man was. His horns were more pronounced in the light, black like his hair. They curled back and away from his face, almost like he was wearing a horned helm. But his dark locks gleamed in the firelight, dispelling that idea. “I’m not dumb either, although my current situation certainly makes it seem otherwise.” 

“I saw a book earlier…” the man sounded curious. 

Tim picked up his journal, the stiff leather cover starting to crack from use and age. He’s refilled the pages so many times, but the simple brown leather protecting them was of his own design. “My journal,” he explained. “I write a little, but it’s mostly sketches and diagrams of things I find interesting.” 

“May I?” the man asked. “I’m a bit of a collector.” He purposefully elbowed his bag. 

“Why not?” Tim huffed and scooted a little closer, not wanting to risk dropping the book in the hot coals. “It’s not like I’m going to need it after tonight.” 

“Now that’s a fatalistic attitude, Sir Knight,” the man replied, accepting the book and delicately opening the pages to flip through them. His eyes widened in surprise. “You have a thing for birds, I see.” 

Tim shrugged, used to that sort of reaction. “More like flight,” he said. “The idea behind it, what all allows a bird to take wing, and can it be replicated by humans.” This version of his journal was full of different birds, his observations on how they fly, and diagrams of their wings and tail feathers. “I don’t get a lot of time to myself at home, but my father loves falconry, so I often used hunting with him as an excuse to study the hawks and the falcons he keeps.” 

“Birds of prey,” the man nodded in approval. “Built for speed, but also strength. But their wings and their bodies have evolved for life in the sky. Just how do you think you can beat evolution?” 

It was something Tim had thought about quite extensively. “Keep going.”  

The man quirked a dark brow at him, but did as he was asked. He stopped turning pages at one point and just stared before flipping to the next page and the next, much slower than he had before. It was readily apparent he was reading Tim’s notes and, if his slow nod was any indication, approved of them. It warmed his heart to finally meet someone who understood where his brain took him. Dick tried, he really did, but for all that the man was the first to throw himself into the air to fly on the trapeze his parents didn’t know was in their training yard, he never quite followed what Tim tried to explain time and again. 

When he reached the end of the journal, the man closed it tight and stared fiercely at Tim from over the dying fire. “You are completely wasted on your parents. This brain of yours is a thing to be treasured, to be kept and used for the betterment of the world. What do I have to do to convince you not to waste your life fighting a dragon?” 

Tim ducked his head and chuckled weakly. “That’s awfully nice of you to say,” he said quietly. “But at this point, unless I come home married to some fantastically rich princess who can buy my parent’s love and affection, I may as well not come back at all.” 

“Then don’t go back,” the man replied heatedly, rising to his knees to gaze down at Tim. “Stay here. The things I can show you, teach you…”

It was tempting, so tempting, and Tim couldn’t help but wet his lips at the thought of freedom from his parent’s rule, to be his own man, and travel the world, learning all there was to know and experience all there was to see. But how could he do that when he was responsible for so much at home? With his parent’s travels, he was the one who ran the duchy in their absence, and did a much better job of it than them. There were people who depended on him and if he did manage to return home after his battle tomorrow, then perhaps he’d finally have the courage to make his little daydream earlier a reality. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, refusing to look away from the intensely beautiful glowing blue orbs hovering above him. At some point, the man had moved from around the fire and was on his knees right next to him. He was even more stunning up close. “I have responsibilities and people I care for, and while my parents may not think much of my life, I have to at least try for all of them.” 

“You said coming home married to someone loaded would buy them off, right?” The man’s eyes blazed as they bored into Tim’s own pale blue ones. 

“I was half-joking,” he tried, but the man raised a dark nailed finger and pressed it against his lips. 

“But you were half-serious too.” 

Tim huffed a laugh because this was starting to get ridiculous. He brushed the hand aside, noting how warm the skin was. “Are you trying to tell me that you’d marry me just to save my life?” 

“Yes,” the man breathed. “You humans have such a short life span, so it wouldn’t be much of a chore. Given the chance, I think you could do much more than most people do.” 

“This is the strangest marriage proposal I’ve ever had,” Tim replied, his lips twisting into a half smirk of his own. “We’ve just met. I don’t even know who or what you are.” 

Blue eyes brightened in amusement as the man rocked back on his heels. Even seated as they were, he still loomed over Tim. “You can call me Jason,” he said, grinning toothily. “I’m the dragon you were sent to kill.”

 


	2. The Dragon's Lair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O_o 
> 
> Holy crow. The response on just one chapter of this story is simply overwhelming. Thank you to everyone who's reading and left a kudos or a comment after just a single week. You're all amazing.

The next morning, Tim was still in a daze, reeling from the events of last night. A dragon. The horned man with the stunning blue eyes was the human form of a dragon. 

Said dragon was currently rustling around in his cave, trying to decide what books to bring with for his trip to Tim’s home. It was also pretty apparent he was trying to figure out where his newest acquisitions were supposed to fit into the massive collection as well. To be fair, Tim was in awe over the library, because it truly was a library and one that likely rivaled even those of the massive universities he’d heard about in the lands to the south. It made his own few bookcases seem pitiful by comparison. 

“You have wings somewhere,” Tim finally spoke up after about half a candlemark’s worth of pondering where they are and how displacement worked. “You can fly back here at any time to read, you know. In fact, you’ll probably want to after spending a week with my mother.” 

“Your mother is an ant,” Jason retorted, hefting a massive tome down from a stone shelf to flip through it briefly before putting it back. “In my real form, they’re too small for me to even notice.” 

“True, but I’m sure even an ant can get under your skin somehow.” Tim tried to stop watching the dragon pack and instead turned his attention to the cave. It was hard to call it a cave when every single item in it spoke to comfort and luxury. For one, the hard rock was polished smooth so that it gleamed in the magelights dotting the walls in little recessed alcoves. No torches were allowed in here, not with all the books. Because that’s what this dragon’s hoard truly contained. Books. 

Tim decided he could happily spend the rest of his life here if it weren’t for concerns at home. 

But something else he observed was that the furnishings were of human size. Plush chairs, chaises with pillows and blankets of soft fabrics, even tables and goblets all suited to the human body. Considering Jason’s bibliophile tendencies, it made sense as books didn’t exactly come in dragon size. The thought of a full-sized dragon trying to read one of these books, even the massive one Jason had flipped through, was ludicrous. 

Tim settled against the wall and continued watching. He’d abandoned his chainmail upon waking earlier (sleeping in it wasn’t something he favored, but he’d been sharing his campfire with _a dragon_ ) and replaced it with a plain tunic and leggings, but even still, he stank of steel and iron. Unlike most of the knights of his acquaintance, the smell didn’t appeal to him. Nor did wearing armor, which was his preference when he could get away with it. 

He spoke up. “It doesn’t look like you need me around for the moment, so I’m going to wash up in that stream I saw outside.” Tim drew himself upright to leave but the dragon turned and gazed at him quizzically. 

“Why?” 

It wasn’t the question he was expecting. “Because I stink of chainmail I no longer need to wear.” 

Jason smirked, an expression Tim was becoming all too used to seeing on his handsome face. “No, I meant why the stream?” 

Now it was Tim’s turn to return the look with a wry one of his own. “Where else am I supposed to take a bath?” 

The dragon’s smirk morphed into a grin. “I have a bathing chamber here. With _warm_ water.” 

It was tempting. Very tempting. “How many buckets would I have to fill?” 

“None.” 

“You have my attention.” 

It turned out that the cave wasn’t just one cavernous room full of books. There were side tunnels cleverly hidden from plain sight, one of which Jason led Tim down, lights appearing as they passed and dimming behind them. This particular tunnel sloped downwards until it opened into a brightly tiled room with a shallow pool for water, everything subtly lit with more magelights. Tim was instantly curious. He’d seen a room like this when he was in Kandor accompanying Lord Marshal Gordon on his many diplomatic missions for King Bruce. He and his best friend, Prince Kon-el, had even spent a _very_ enjoyable evening in one, but the pool had already been full by the time they arrived. 

Jason strode to the far side of the tiled pool and twisted something on the wall. Water started pouring in from two different sluice gates. Tim gasped and raced over, sticking his face in as close as he could to see how it worked. “It’s siphoning off from somewhere, isn’t it? Is it above us or below? If it’s below, what kind of pressure makes it rise?” 

“I should have let you bathe in the stream. Fewer questions.” 

“I believe your marriage proposal hinged on your desire to teach me,” Tim retorted without even thinking. 

The dragon laughed at that. “So very true. Well, come take a gander at this.” 

Tim tore his attention away from the wall and Jason placed his hand in the slowly rising water. A glow emitted from the center of his palm and light streaked out, tendrils tapping submerged tiles and lighting them up, first red, and then tapering into a deep blue that tinted the water. There was more to it than just color as the previously cold water started steaming from the influx of heat. Tim wasn’t sure if he was more intrigued by how the dragon’s fire worked underwater or if the tiles were charmed in some way to generate heat and different colors. Or were they insulated and the light activated them in some manner to retain heat? Too many questions, not any answers. He should do something about that. “Are the tiles glass or stone?” 

That wasn’t quite what Tim wanted to ask, but the dragon’s reaction was worth it as he gaped and almost fell into the rising water, he was laughing so hard. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” he finally said when he recovered his breath and his balance. “I show you magic and you ask about the tile.”

Tim shrugged because he’d been called worse things. “I went with the practical. I was tested for the spark years ago and didn’t have it.” Mages were rare and his father’s family had a few, so it made sense for him to be tested. He’d wanted it so badly as it would have been an escape from his home. 

“There’s more than one kind of magic,” Jason offered, rising to his feet. “You know, it’s occurred to me we don’t need to go rushing back to your homeland. Let’s spend a few days here, get to know each other, and I can stimulate that brain of yours even more.” He winked at the last part, to which Tim could feel his ears heat up. 

“S-sure,” he stuttered. “Works for me. It’s not like anyone is expecting me home right away.” If at all. Dick would be though. The older knight had been devastated when he’d heard what kind of quest Tim was being sent on, vowing to follow after him on his own until Tim made him swear on his daughter’s life that he wouldn’t follow. Mar’i was his world and he wasn’t beneath using that fact to wrangle the vow out of his oldest friend. 

“There’s towels and soap over there,” Jason pointed at the opposite side of the pool. “And a basin if you want to rinse off before soaking.” 

Tim knelt and trailed his fingers in the water. It was warm, but not overly so. “Sounds good. Thank you.” 

“Eh, no need. You stink of steel and horse.” 

“If I never have to wear chainmail again, I’ll die a happy man.” With that, Tim rose and walked away, the sound of the dragon’s deep laugh echoing in the chamber. 

He soon discovered there was more to the room than just the tiled pool. It all spoke to riches beyond his ken, but also to science and engineering that made him want to spend much more than just a few days here. As he stripped down and rinsed off in an area clearly designed for it (including a clever little grate in the floor for the water to drain), Tim hoped there would be more visits here in the future, if only to figure out how to replicate something similar at home. Even the baths in Kandor were filled by bucket and heated rocks were used to maintain the temperature. 

At the same time, he wondered why exactly Jason was putting himself out like this. He was the son of a duke whose only real worth was what was between his ears. For the first time, he was with someone who appreciated him for that rather than what he wasn’t. There were a few exceptions, of course, but his friends weren’t the ones who offered to marry him. 

It was exciting and clearly the reason why his natural inclination to sit back and observe was going to the wayside. 

The worst of the road dust and grime rinsed off, Tim turned to the pool to refill his basin and stopped short. 

Jason was standing on the edge of the recessed tile, holding full basin of his own. He was also as bare skinned as he was. Tim swallowed, not having expected the dragon to accompany him into the bath. He tried not to stare, but it was a battle not to, what with all the lightly tanned skin, muscle he never was able to pack on, and the tattoos. There were two intricate patterns that wrapped around his arms, over his shoulders, and disappeared onto his back. 

At least Tim had an excuse to stare now. “Those are impressive,” he offered, picking up his basin to walk around the dragon. “Are they significant in any particular way or do you just like the designs?”

He was proud of how he managed to keep his voice steady and eyes above the waist. He was no stranger to casual bathing with other men (namely Dick and that was an exercise in will every single time to not accidently on purpose brush up against him; his wife Kori certainly wouldn’t appreciate it either). 

Tim knelt and refilled his basin, feeling eyes on him the entire time. Apparently, the courtesy he was extending wasn’t being returned to him. There wasn’t much to see, he thought as he rose. Pale skin, a few scars, only one of which had much of a story behind it. 

Turning, he caught Jason still watching him intently. Fine then. Tim didn’t see much point in hiding his own budding desire when it was clear there was at least some reciprocal interest in return, even if it was just for his brain. “Something wrong?” he asked as he walked back to the rinsing area. He set his basin down, picked up the soap and a damp cloth, and started to wash. 

“You are the strangest human I’ve ever met,” Jason finally returned. “I normally only find your women attractive, but…” 

Tim looked over his shoulder at the man and tried to hide his own grin, but failed miserably. Jason looked so _confused_ even if something below his waist didn’t seem to have any doubts whatsoever. “Remember, you were the one who proposed to me,” he replied. “I honestly have no preferences when it comes to the gender of my bed partners, but if you’re only into women, then we better get things figured out fast because I refuse to be celibate for the rest of my life.” 

But Jason was shaking his head in disagreement before Tim even finished. “No, no, that’s not it in the slightest. Human women and elven _men_ tend to be my go-to’s for when I’m feeling frisky. You’re the first human man who’s managed to do this to me.” He gestured to the one spot Tim had been very politely trying to ignore. 

Rather than stare, Tim returned to washing up. “Well, if it’s won’t be a bother then, would you mind getting my back?” 

In a flash, there was a dragon kneeling right behind him. He could feel the heat radiating off him even before a long-nailed hand plucked his soapy washcloth out of his hand and started running it up and down his back. “Are you usually this forward?” Jason asked, his hot breath tickling the hairs on Tim’s neck. 

“No, not usually,” Tim said after a moment. There was just enough pressure being applied on his shoulder blades that he wished he dared ask for a massage to relieve the tension in his muscles. “But since it’s rather obvious you’re interested too, I don’t see any point in hiding it.” 

“You’re taking all the fun out of seducing you, Sir Knight.” Tim shivered as warm lips ran over the sensitive skin of his neck, curving around to the side as Jason lapped his way down. He instinctively raised a hand to run his fingers through Jason’s hair, but encountered a horn instead. 

But it was Jason who shuddered at the touch and nuzzled in further, wrapping those large and tattooed arms around him. Tim melted against the warm body and didn’t let go of the horn. Instead, his adjusted his grip and lightly ran his fingers up and down the bone. “Lower,” Jason groaned, his voice rough with desire. “Grip the base.” 

Tim did as he was told, but took it one step further when something else prodded him from behind, inspiring him to further lengths. He gripped the base of the horn and carefully ran his fingers through Jason’s thick hair, rubbing at his scalp. The dragon moaned, long and low as though the air was being dragged from his lungs. His arms tightened around Tim and he buried his face against Tim’s collarbone, teeth dragging over the skin, wrenching a gasp from the knight. 

“By the gods,” Jason swore and yanked his head away from Tim’s still questing hand, his breath ragged. “No one does that. Ever.” 

“Why don’t they?” Tim asked, dropping his free hand to the bare skin of Jason’s thickly muscled thigh. The skin under his palm quavered as he grabbed hold and took advantage of the position to rock against the hard length prodding his lower back. “Seems to me that you like it. A lot.” 

“I usually wear a glamor when I go out into the world,” the dragon admitted, his breathing rough as Tim continued pressing against him. “People don’t see my horns, or my eyes. My hands.” He raised one and waggled his black tipped fingers in emphasis. 

Tim used the freedom and his soap slicked body to spin around and face Jason. He met those glowing blue orbs, much darker now as their little game of cat and mouse dragged on. “I understand if you feel the need to wear one around others. But when it’s just you and me, please, never have it on. You’re stunning the way you are.” 

Words became a thing of the past as the dragon surged against Tim, trapping him between his strong thighs and holding him securely in his arms. A mouth crashed into his and Tim found himself lost in blue fire, so vibrant and gods-be-damned dark and sinful that he never wanted to find himself without it again. 

~*~*~*~*~

Later, much later, Tim rolled over on what passed for Jason’s bed, a collection of cushions, pillows, and blankets, all in rich and fine fabrics, some of which he’d never even seen before. He rubbed a smooth silk between his fingers and pondered what manner of creature the thread was spun from. It _was_ silk, just not of the same type he was familiar with. Next to him, Jason lay flat on his back, a tattooed arm flung dramatically over his head and the rest of the blanket Tim was fingering barely touching his hips. The dragon looked like some kind of fallen angel as far as he was concerned. 

An angel he’d just finished riding into that sweet oblivion. Tim can’t say he regretted it at all. Besides, Jason was the one to taunt him in the first place about his oh-so-human stamina. 

“Fuck your parents,” Jason spoke heatedly, his eyes still shut and not moving an inch. “I’m keeping you and that’s that.” 

“I sincerely doubt that dragons hoard people,” Tim chuckled and dropped the fabric, opting instead to grab another blanket and pull it around his bare body. 

“My den is a fucking library,” Jason snorted in response. “Do you really think I care?” 

“Perhaps once you realize you have to feed me, unlike your books.” That was something he’d need to address soon considering his last meal was breakfast. In the darkness of the cave, it was impossible to determine what time it was. The finely wrought clock he’d spotted earlier was in the main cavern. 

Jason waved a hand, brushing the thought aside. “You’re mouthy enough you wouldn’t let me forget.” 

Tim let that one go and instead stared up at the polished rock above him. A couple of magelights were lit near the ceiling, providing a dim twilight for him to see by. Jason’s eyes must be able to see in other light spectrums, perhaps like the dwarves or even the elves to an extent, because it was bordering on too dark for him. The main cavern was brighter. 

He muffled a sigh, recognizing what he was doing. Mundane thoughts covering for the deeper, heavier thoughts he should be having. What was he doing? He’d left home to kill a dragon and here he was in bed with him instead. Which was a much better alternative to be sure. Now he just needed to figure out what to tell his parents when he returned home with a fiancé. 

“Would you stop that?” Jason growled and rolled over, his blue eyes glowing faintly under his cracked eyelids, peering out through dark lashes. “I can hear you thinking from here.” 

“Really?” Tim queried, tugging his blanket tighter around him. “Are you a mind reader then?” 

Jason snorted again and the scent of smoke wafted through the small space between them. “No, but I heard you sigh. Besides, I know what it’s like having a brain that just won’t shut off. Why do you think I read all the time?” 

“Brain food,” was the first thing Tim came up with, which made them both laugh quietly. “It’s hard,” he admitted. “I have the worst time sleeping. The only time I ever seem to is when I’m too exhausted to do anything else. And even then, sometimes it doesn’t work.” 

“I’ve read something about that,” Jason replied. “An elvish healer, I think. I’ll see if I can find the book for you.” 

Elvish was a language Tim would sell his soul to learn fluently but now wasn’t the time to admit it. He was already indebted to the dragon enough. “Thank you,” he said, remembering his manners before it was too late. 

“So, what are you thinking so hard about?” Jason reached out a long-nailed hand and ran his fingers through Tim’s own black hair. He relished the tender touch even if it didn’t garner the same reaction as it did from Jason. 

“About home,” Tim admitted after a heartbeat. “About how Mother and Father are going to react to everything. And honestly? About whether I should finally step up and send them packing. It’s high time they stopped interfering with my life and you’ve given me the means to do it.” 

Jason’s grin was sharp and all kinds of jagged as his lips peeled away, revealing sharp teeth that no human mouth would ever have. “Where are you from, Tim? I’d like to know exactly whose lives I’m about to disrupt for being assholes to such a treasure.” His fingers tightened, tugging at Tim’s hair before loosening just as swiftly. 

Treasure. Jason thought he was a treasure. It wasn’t the typical endearment Tim was used to hearing, but it made sense, coming from a dragon. “My full name is Timothy, Viscount Jackson, son of the Duke of Drake.” He waited for it, as that last part was bound to get a reaction. 

The dragon didn’t disappoint. Jason laughed so hard he had to roll onto his back so that the sudden burst of flame he breathed didn’t burn Tim or the bedding. As it was, he left scorch marks on the ceiling. “By the gods,” he gasped, smoke filling the air around them. “That’s just too fucking perfect.” 

“I’m glad I amuse you.” 

“A Drake sent to kill a dragon,” Jason chortled, still smoking around the mouth. Tim scooted away, his eyes starting to water. 

“I’m glad you find it so funny as my mother made it sound like it was my god given duty to slay a dragon and live up to the family name. Not that my father ever killed a dragon either.” The smoke was getting to be a bit much, so Tim got up, hiding a slight wince as his legs protested the movement. “I’ll be outside, getting some fresh air.” 

In the main cavern, Tim rummaged through his saddlebags to grab his dirty laundry, figuring he may as well take care of that while he was at it when Jason joined him. “Sorry, I lost control there. I cleared out the room already, so you shouldn’t have issues breathing.” He sounded sheepish, which, coming from such a large man, was rather endearing. 

“It’s all right,” Tim said, his lips quirking in a little half smile. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air and I’ll tell you all about my parents.” 

“Oh, joy.”

 


	3. A Lazy Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is domestic fluff wrapped into Tim's backstory.

Tim lounged on a rock in the bright afternoon sun, overlooking a small sun-dappled stream. His few clothes were freshly washed (as was he, again) and he simply basked in the sheer feeling of being _alive_. After all, he’d thought he would be dead by this time today. Never in a thousand years did he think the outcome of this adventure would end in anything other than his death. But Jason, and his odd proposal, changed all that. 

For that matter, what was the dragon getting out of this? He’d stated he was doing it to give him a chance to live up to his potential, but after spending some time with him, he wasn’t entirely sure that was the whole truth. If there was one thing Tim learned from his mother, it was to not accept everything at face value. As the old adage said, if it sounded too good to be true, it probably was. Still, he knew it was best to observe and form his own opinion and one day was barely enough time to formulate a well-rounded one. 

Part of that was his overall lack of knowledge on dragons. There wasn’t much information on them, aside from the fiery rampages they purportedly went on and their desire for gold and treasure. Myth had a tendency to be based in truth and Jason did have a hoard. A hoard of books. Either the stories were all wrong or the dragon he encountered marched to the beat of his own drum. 

The latter seemed more likely, Tim decided. 

His stomach growled and below him in the stream, Jason laughed. “Patience,” he called out. “I’d like to see you fish without a line.” 

“I already told you I have a line and hook in my gear, but no. You just want to show off.” Not that Tim minded the view. Jason was as bare as he was, thigh deep in the water. 

“Fishing is a _skill_ , not something to fall asleep to.” 

“Well, while you’re showing off your skills to the fish, I’m going to check on my horse.” Tim rose and put his boots back on. The pasture he picketed his lovely sorrel mare in earlier this morning wasn’t far from the cave entrance. She seemed no worse for the wear, nickering softly as he approached and nuzzling at his hand.   

He led her upstream from Jason and rubbed her neck as she drank. “We’ll be here for a few more days. It’ll be a nice rest for both of us after a month on the road,” he told her. 

“You always talk to mostly brainless beasts like that?” 

Tim jerked his head around to see Jason leaning indolently against a tree. “An argument can be made for brainless,” he said. “But Robin here is one of the smartest horses I’ve ever trained.” 

“All I see is dinner, but I don’t think you want me saying I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.” Jason grinned sharply, flashing fang as he did. 

“I’d really prefer you not,” Tim replied, playing along. “I don’t feel like walking home. It took me a month of steady riding just to get here.” 

“Maybe if you asked nicely, I’d let you hitch a ride.” There was a hint of a leer and Tim’s ears heated up as he made the connection that he’d technically already gone for a ride on a dragon. 

Still… “You’re not eating Robin.” 

Jason huffed, but it was plain to see he was joking. 

Tim led Robin away from the stream and up the bank to her little pasture with the dragon trailing after them. “I guess now’s a good time to ask just _how_ you plan on returning home with me. The nearest town with a decent livery stable is about five days ride from here.” 

“More like a couple hours in the air.” 

Distance and time calculations rushed through Tim’s mind and he gaped as he came up with an approximate figure. “You’re that fast?” 

“In the air, yeah. It’s not as though I have to take time to safely ford a stream or go around that inconveniently placed rocky tor.” 

Tim had so many questions he wanted to ask, the first and foremost being if Jason was serious about letting him go for a real ride on his back, which led into questions of what a saddle would even look like for a dragon and what kind of materials would it take to build one, not to mention what it would take to safely anchor a rider should said dragon go into a dive or even bank. But he took a deep breath and swallowed the urge, and focused on settling his horse, making sure she had plenty of line to move about. 

He paused at a sudden thought and this time asked the question as it was actually relevant. “Is it safe to leave her outside?” he asked. “The weather’s fine, but are there any predators around I should be worried about?” 

Jason grinned, pointedly revealing his sharp teeth. “Can’t get higher on the food chain than me. She’ll be fine.” 

Tim accepted the fact at face value and they walked back to the stream. Checking his clothes, the leggings were mostly dry, so he started to dress. 

“No need to put clothes on unless you want to,” Jason chimed in, following him on silent feet. “There’s no one else around here besides me and I sure as hell don’t mind.” 

He kept his mouth shut and continued his battle with the leggings. Tim preferred trousers but these were easier to travel with. Besides, while Jason had no issues with wandering around bare as the day he was born, he did, even though that could be chalked up to cultural upbringing. 

The dragon shrugged and knelt beside him, drawing up a thin line of already gutted fish out of the water below. “How burnt you like these?” 

“Enough that I won’t get sick by eating them raw.” Tim cast about, looking for wood to light a small cook-fire with, but Jason waved him off. 

“Watch and learn.” He removed one of the fish from the line, eyed it critically, and drew a short breath. A small jet of flame whooshed out when he exhaled. Tim stopped what he was doing and stared as the reality of the last day or so finally settled in. He was engaged to a dragon. A real, live, fire-breathing dragon. 

“How’s that look?” Jason showed Tim the now roasted fish. All he could do was nod numbly. 

Pleased, Jason set it down and picked up the second one, and then the third, roasting all three evenly. Tim forgot what he was supposed to be doing, entranced as he was by the flames. He started when he sat down and his bottom came in contact with cool stone. Jason watched him finish dressing with a bemused expression. 

“How do you do that?” Tim finally questioned when his wits returned. “Is there some sort of gland that secretes a combustible oil that bursts into flame when it comes in contact with air? What about your throat? Or your mouth? Does it burn your skin at all?” Questions spilled out of his mouth, one after another as he tried to process what he’d just seen. It was all completely fascinating and he needed answers. His fingers itched for his journal to take notes, but he’d left it back in the cave. 

Jason shrugged and sat back on the rock, draping his arms over his knees. “I’m not sure how it works in this form, but in my dragon form, the closest I can describe it for you is that I have a second stomach where the flame comes from. I can consciously control the muscle letting it out and how much air mixes in. The deeper the breath, the longer and hotter the flame.” 

Tim scrambled over to kneel beside Jason and started poking at his mouth, prying it open to peer inside. He’d spent a good deal of time exploring it with his tongue earlier, but now he needed to _see_. “But the fire doesn’t hurt the inside of your mouth, right? Or your throat? How does that work considering how destructive it can be? You definitely have smoke breath though. Kind of like a chimney.” 

Hands bat Tim away and he rocked back on his heels, realizing what he’d just done. He’d just stuck his fingers in a _dragon’s_ _mouth_. Heat rose in Tim’s cheeks and he felt mortified. “Sorry!” he apologized. “I just…I get curious about things sometimes and can’t let go until I figure it out. I shouldn’t have done that, it was a complete invasion of your personal space and…” 

Jason raised a long-nailed finger and rested it against Tim’s lips, silencing him. “Remember, it’s for that very curiosity that I’m marrying you in the first place. Just give a guy a warning next time you start shoving your fingers in his mouth, okay? At least outside the bedroom.” 

Tim nodded, his eyes wide in relief as Jason didn’t appear to be upset with him. 

“Good. Now eat. I can hear your stomach rumbling again.”

He was halfway done before he realized the dragon wasn’t eating. “Aren’t you hungry?” Tim asked, remembering his manners and offering up the remaining fish.

“All jokes about your horse aside, I don’t actually need to eat as often as you,” Jason replied. He’d been basking in the sun, stretched out on the stone as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Finish your fish because I want story time.”

Tim mulled over his words while he ate. He’d put it off for as long as he could even if there wasn’t a lot to say, really. His parents were, well, his parents and trying to find the right manner in which to describe them to a third party who’d just as soon step on them as look at them was difficult. When he finished eating, he washed his hands in the stream, then settled in next to where Jason was still sprawled out. He purposefully kept his eyes on the slow moving water in front of him.

“My parents are rarely at home, always traveling or spending time in the King’s court in Gotham. They fancy themselves to be well-educated and to an extent, they are. But when it comes to me, they never seem to know quite what to do…” Tim spoke about his childhood, the multitude of tutors and instructors that made more of an impact on him than anything his mother or father ever did. It still didn’t stop him from trying harder and harder to gain their approval, to feel wanted and loved.

“I was eleven when Sir Richard arrived to teach me fencing. He was fresh from King Bruce’s court and had barely earned his spurs. But in my eyes, he was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, both inside and out. He was the one who saw something special in me rather than just some nobleman’s son and became my first real friend.”

Sir Richard Grayson wasn’t the typical knight. For one, he was born a commoner, the son of traveling performers no less. But a tragic accident during a performance before King Bruce granted the young boy an opportunity to rise further than his low birth would ever allow and he took it. Dick was talented beyond belief and thrived when instructing others. Their friendship worked in both directions too, the small and bookish Tim instructing his mentor just as often as the older man bent him into a pretzel.

“When I was knighted by King Bruce, it was quite possibly the first time I’ve ever seen my parents appear proud of me.” Tim toyed with a small stick, twisting it around between his fingers as he remembered that day. His mother’s smile, a real one for a change that actually reached her pale blue eyes, so like his own. His father, his usual dour expression relaxed and a faint smile on his face. Neither were very expressive people, so this was joy and jubilation for them. “I was sent to war with Dick for a time after that, and later on a diplomatic mission to Kandor, accompanying the King’s Lord Marshal, Sir James Gordon. Dick decided to stay home with his wife Kori and daughter Mar’i, so it was my first time out in the world without him.”

Kandor was where he’d met his best friend, Kon-el, the eldest son of the King of Kandor, Kal-el. The two young men became close friends during the extended visit, which became even longer when an early snow blocked the passes through the mountains, leaving the Gotham contingent stuck for the winter. It was with Kon that Tim learned he enjoyed the pleasures of a man’s body as much as he did a woman’s.

As he explained this, smoke started streaming from Jason’s nose, short puffs that hung in the still air. The dragon rose to his feet and paced around to disperse it, but Tim stopped speaking to wait him out. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the man was agitated.

“Something wrong?” he finally spoke up.

Jason waved him off, coming to a stop at the edge of the rock where it overlooked the stream. The intricate pattern of his tattoos wended their way over his shoulder blades, joining together seamlessly over the upper part of his back. Every time Tim’s gaze fell on the dragon, he appeared more wild and exotic than before. They hadn’t even known each other all that long, but Tim knew he was already entranced and under the dragon’s spell.

“It’s nothing,” Jason said flatly. “Keep going.”

Tim shot him another concerned look, uncertain exactly what it was in his story that set him off. If he knew, then he could avoid the topic in the future. “For the first time in my life, I truly enjoyed myself. The freedom of being a few hundred leagues from home was a heady rush and Prince Kon was determined to help me along that path every step of the way…”

The two of them became thick as thieves, but for all of that, they knew even then that they were better off as friends, especially since Kal was trying to arrange a marriage between his son and Helena, the daughter of Bruce and his consort, Queen Selina. Four years later though, the marriage still hadn’t happened, but Tim wasn’t at court often enough to find out why. All Kon’s letters would say was that Helena didn’t want to be married yet, which was fine with him, to which he’d then go on to wax poetic over the cousin of Queen Diana of Themyscira, Cassandra.

“That’s all well and good, but I don’t give a shit about court politics and intrigues,” Jason interjected, laying down again and shifting around so that his head was nestled in Tim’s lap. His eyes glowed blue-green in the daylight. “Even though your best friend better keep it in his pants unless he wants to accidently start a war over a spurned bride.” There was an edge to his voice, and Tim could tell he wanted to say something else but didn’t.

This didn’t start happening until he mentioned Kon. If Jason were human, he’d say he was jealous. But he couldn’t be. It made no sense at all, so Tim brushed it aside.

“I’ve warned him already. Kal, Bruce, and Diana are all friends, so I doubt it would come to that, but better safe than sorry.” He idly ran his fingers through Jason’s wavy hair as he continued with his story, the dragon already rumbling in contentment from the simple gesture. “Anyways, my parents and I didn’t see each other for a couple years and when I came home, they packed up and left almost a week after I arrived.”

The next few years played out much the same. Tim grew in status so as to be one of Bruce’s favored advisors as he didn’t have the same penchant as the younger knights to always rush into battle. But he preferred to be at home whenever possible, and so he took up the duties and responsibilities there that would normally fall to the Duke in his parents’ absence. His own desire to study and learn often took second fiddle to these and he grumbled, typically to Dick or Kori, whenever his parents would return as they were a constant source of frustration for him.

“It’s been a battle of wills these last few years,” Tim explained, the recounting of his story reaching its end. “I never seem to do enough in their eyes and I’m constantly trying to please them in order for them to acknowledge me. During my last argument with my mother, she informed me that I’d had my chance at court to make something of myself and further the family name, but all I was doing now was wasting it and dragging it through the mud with my _scribbles_.” The sour taste in his mouth that always accompanied his mother’s words over his studies was slightly mollified by Jason’s low grumble. “Before I left, I made it a point to hide all my old journal pages and sketches because on the off-chance I made it home alive, I didn’t think they’d be waiting for me. I still don’t for that matter.”

Jason’s grumble deepened into a true growl. “I already hate your mother.”

“Don’t. She takes out her frustrations on me and my father because neither of us have the desire to permanently move to Gotham and take up residence there. Seriously though, I think when we return home, I’m going to have her do just that.” Tim shook his head and sighed. “I almost feel bad for my father sometimes. He’s not a bad man, but he’s got a wife who’s a shrew.”

“Arranged marriage?”

“Yes. Just like the ones I’ve had contracts drawn up for, only for Mother to make Father back out at the last minute.” A fact he was rather pleased about now as he snuck a glance at the dragon still making himself comfortable in his lap.

Jason’s growl settled back into a low purr. “Good. Because I’d hate to have to share you with anyone.”

Tim laughed and tapped Jason lightly on the nose. “You do know that human marriages are supposed to be monogamous, right?”

“Emphasis on _supposed to._ I’m pretty sure I’ve bedded a few women who weren’t feeling satisfied at home,” the dragon snickered and opened his glowing eyes again. “But yes, I do. I won’t go fucking around on you while we’re married if you don’t. Not that I can see why you would, I mean, seriously. Look at me.” He stretched and arched his back, showing off the long, muscular line of his body, the thick thighs and strong calves.

“I haven’t been able to stop,” Tim admitted softly.

“I know,” Jason purred and reached up a darkly nailed hand to draw Tim closer to him. “Why don’t you come here and get a closer look?”

“Why don’t I?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do they always want to have sex?? I swear, no sex next chapter. Nope. None!


	4. The Realization

It took them the better part of a week to finally leave Jason’s lair, mostly because of the dragon’s inability to settle on which books he refused to leave behind during his sojourn in what he’s taken to calling the human lands. Tim jokingly referred to it as his exile, which wasn’t far off the mark as far as he was concerned. No one in their right minds should want marry him just for his brain, but Jason stubbornly insisted otherwise.

When the dragon groused about leaving the cave unattended for so long, Tim’s blithe response about no one using his books for anything other than kindling during a cold winter did not go over well, leaving Jason huffing smoke for several hours afterwards, effectively driving Tim out of the cave to fend for himself one night. It had been worth it, getting under Jason’s skin and seeing him pout like some maiden whose favorite trinket had been threatened.

The night before they planned to leave, Tim curled up in one of the plush armchairs, the book by the elvish healer Jason recommended (and unerringly found the day after he mentioned it) in his lap. An elvish grammar was tucked in next to him, which the dragon had also dug up for him after he admitted elvish was not a language he spoke or read well. Jason didn’t judge him for it though, other than stating that was another crime, and so they spent the better part of two days rectifying it.

His reading was slow, but utterly fascinating. He was also comfortably warm, the lighting perfection, and a goblet of mulled wine sat on a small side table next to him. It was the epitome of comfort and already, Tim mourned the loss. At least month of hard travel lay before them, the first stretch of it on foot as Jason didn’t have a horse. They’d discussed Tim riding ahead and Jason flying ( _flying!_ ) after him a few days later, but the dragon didn’t seem particularly pleased with the thought of letting him out of sight. 

Tim chalked it up to being part of Jason’s hoard now, a new and shiny bauble to play with. 

A warm hand ruffled his hair and he looked up to see the dragon standing behind him. “Are you done packing, then?” he asked, closing his book.

“As much as I can be,” Jason replied, trailing his fingers down through Tim’s hair to cradle the side of his face. Tim leaned into it, enjoying the easy touch. The dragon was extremely tactile and for someone as touch starved as him, he welcomed the simple affection. “I think you’re right and that I’ll take little trips back here whenever it gets to be too much.”

Tim’s eyes danced in delight. “Did you just admit that I’m  _right_  about something?”

“Don’t get used to it.” Jason tapped the tip of Tim’s nose and removed his hand, striding around the chair to take a seat in the one opposite of him. “Are you going to bring those with?” he asked, gesturing to the books.

“Only if they’re ones you’re willing to risk outside.” Tim had learned that there were some books that Jason flat out refused to ever let see the light of day again, old and rare tomes that were so delicate to touch that he wore special gloves and used tweezers to turn the pages when reading. Tim had been enthralled by these and dutifully wore the gloves Jason gave him when he showed him one. The illuminated pages of the manuscript were some of the most beautiful he’d ever seen. His current reading material certainly wasn’t in that category, but there were others that the dragon simply didn’t want to leave the cave. 

“The grammar is fine,” Jason replied after a moment’s thought. “Those are easy to find and, to be honest, I’m still surprised I even had it. The other one…” he stared a while longer, blue eyes growing darker the longer he remained silent.

“It’s all right,” Tim said, setting the healer’s book aside. “I’m not that far into it.” He wished he could read it faster, he really did, but the language was slow going, which was a shame because what he’d read so far was utterly fascinating. Who knew that the brain was capable of so much?

Jason surprised him though when he shook his head. “No, bring it. You’re enjoying it and I can smell your disappointment from here. I’ve got a special cloth I can wrap it in to protect it from dust and keep it dry if it rains.”

“Thank you.” It meant a lot that the dragon trusted him with one of his prized possessions. “I’ll make sure to take good care of it.”

“I know you will.”

The next morning, Jason sealed his cave and they were on their way. Tim wasn’t entirely sure how it was done, but there was magic involved, he could tell that much. Once the cave was secure, Jason put his human glamor on. His argument was that this close to his lair, he didn’t want to risk anyone putting two and two together. The air around him shimmered, light bending and refracting into little rainbows before it settled, leaving the dragon without his horns, dark nails, or his glowing eyes.

Tim sighed quietly because he liked those horns and loved what Jason did when he gripped them just right. But this wasn’t about his preferences, it was about Jason’s, so he shoved those thoughts to the side and studied the all too human looking eyes gazing back at him in amusement. “They’re still the same shade of blue,” he finally said. “I’m glad.” 

Jason smirked, cocksure and comfortable now that his true self was hidden away. “Aw, are you becoming smitten with my eyes?” 

“Amongst other things,” Tim admitted. It was hard not to be, especially after spending so much time with the man. Jason loved to tell stories but he also had a knack for drawing Tim out of his shell, asking questions about his life and his own studies, such as they were. 

“I got lucky in the looks department, I know.” Jason teased and shrugged his massive shoulders. His tattoos were on full display as his choice of travel gear included a sleeveless version of the same black and red jacket he’d worn the night they met.

“Oh, so that’s not an illusion either?” 

Jason threw a small rock at him, which Tim ducked while trying not to laugh. It was all too easy to rile the dragon up sometimes.

Tim’s lovely Robin was laden down with books and two small chests of nearly priceless treasures the dragon deemed insignificant enough to part with in return for Tim’s freedom. “I hope you’re worth it,” Jason joked, watching as the final straps were tied into place. “I didn’t think I’d have to pay this kind of bride-price for you.”

The mare did not look happy about being a beast of burden and Tim patted her nose soothingly. “Think of it this way,” he replied as they started down the faint trail, heading away from the cave. “You’ll be getting a massive dowry from me. And, when I die, all of these things will be coming back to you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Something in what he said had the dragon huffing smoke before the man looked away. Tim had finally realized it was a behavior of Jason’s that only came about when he was agitated. It was something he filed away to ponder over later. Mortality was a concept he had more than made his peace with, even in the short span of his life. The war changed his perspective on death, after seeing how easy it was to extinguish even a single life and made Tim cherish it that much more. It was small wonder King Bruce only went to war when he had no other choice.

Apparently it wasn’t something Jason thought much about, beyond abstract terms perhaps. The stories said dragons were ancient creatures, possibly even products of a bygone era. Tim knew this not to be true after Jason informed him he was rather young for a dragon. No longer a juvenile, but he was still working through what it meant to be an adult dragon. Others considered him brash and impulsive, to which Tim had to roll his eyes because no, that couldn’t be his Jason at all.

It took them six days to reach the large town on the edge of what Tim thought of as the human lands. The country beyond was considered wild and inhospitable, perfect for a dragon who wanted to be alone but still craved companionship. As they approached the wall considered by most to be the divide between civilized lands and not, it became clear just how backwards his beliefs on that concept was. Just because something didn’t conform to his expectations, did not automatically make it uncouth. He cast a glance over at Jason, who somehow managed to walk and read at the same time, and smiled. His mother would be having a conniption fit of epic proportions when he arrived home with the outspoken dragon.

Tim couldn’t wait to see it.

“Hey,” he said, trying to get the dragon’s attention. “We’re here.” On this side of the wall, there was next to no traffic on the road.

“Finally,” Jason sighed and closed his book with a snap. He rustled around in one of Robin’s many bags to put it away. “I want a bath and a place to put my feet up, not necessarily in that order.”

“Agreed. I stayed at _the Everyman_ when I passed through before and enjoyed it well enough. You have any preferences?” Tim knew this was not Jason’s first visit. As the closest population of any kind in these parts, it was where the dragon often sought refuge from his boredom. The town was predominantly human, but he’d observed halfings and some dwarves last time.

“They’ve got the best ale on tap,” Jason replied with a grin. “I’ve been there more than once.”

The inn was their first stop and the while old innkeeper greeted them both enthusiastically, he directed Jason to the taproom right away to put his feet up. It left Tim to deal with unloading Robin. The inn was rather small and while there was a stable boy, there wasn’t a porter. Not that he minded all that much as there was some rather precious cargo aboard his mare and he didn’t want just anyone handling it.

As soon as everything was unloaded, Robin’s eye-roll of relief made Tim laugh. He rubbed her velvety nose. “I know. You didn’t like that at all. You’re a warhorse, not a pack mule.”

“Seriously, do you always talk to her like that?” Jason asked, coming out the back door and into the small courtyard with a tall mug of ale in his hand.

“Who else do I have to talk to?” Tim replied. “Besides you.” He handed the reins over to the waiting stable boy. “No biting,” he warned his mare.

Jason already had one of the chests balanced on his hip and a bag of books slung over his shoulder, all without spilling a drop. “I’ve arranged for our room. Follow me.”

“Our room?” Tim questioned as he picked up his bundles and the other chest. His chainmail weighted everything down, but he refused to wear it when there wasn’t a need to.

“Yes, _our_ room,” Jason repeated, holding the door open for Tim. “You didn’t think I was gonna let all this stuff out of my sight, did you?” It was implied that the dragon considered him part of that _stuff_.

Tim didn’t want to even try and answer that question as he followed Jason down the short hallway and up the back staircase. “You seem pretty well known around here. What do you pass yourself off as?” 

“An itinerant mage,” the man replied, shrugging his broad shoulders. He opened the door to one of the inn’s three rooms. “It’s not like anyone this rural would know better, and it explains the odd smoke I can’t help. When I get bored, even the company of humans is better than none at all.”

“Is that typical of dragons?” It was something Tim had been wondering about. He set the chest down on the floor and lowered the other bag of books even more carefully on top of it. His own gear he dropped without a second thought.

The room wasn’t huge, but there was a large bed taking up most of it. A chest of drawers rested against the far wall and a water pitcher and basin sat atop it. The sole window looked out over the small courtyard at the back of the inn.

“No, not really,” Jason admitted sheepishly, setting his burdens down on the bed. He took a sip from his ale before he continued. “We’re solitary by nature, until we find our mate.” 

Tim wanted to ask more questions but bit his cheek to keep the barrage back as Jason was clearly uncomfortable with the topic. He felt he should say something though. “Well, if you do happen to find them while we’re married, I will of course release you from our vows. You should be with the person…dragon…that you love.”

The dragon gave him an unreadable look but didn’t say anything.

“Well, we still need to go get your horse,” Tim prodded, changing the subject. He stretched and eyed the bed, wishing there was time for a quick nap. The afternoon sun would soon fade into evening and as much as he wished they could linger for a day, they needed to be back on the road in the morning.

“No, _you_ need to get my horse,” Jason replied pointedly. “I know precisely dick about them, aside from the fact they’re good eating.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “You are _not_ eating this horse when we get home.”

“You sure about that?” Jason grinned toothily. Even with his glamor in place, they still appeared longer than normal. “Besides, I am not leaving even this little bit of my hoard until I can set up some wards, even if I did get the key to lock up.”

The statement stung a little. “I thought I was part of your hoard? Doesn’t that mean I need to be watched over too?” It slipped out before Tim could stop himself.

Jason set his ale down on the dresser and crossed the room to Tim. He cupped his chin in a large hand and then warm lips were pressed against his own. Tim opened his mouth slightly when the dragon’s questing tongue sought entrance, turning the kiss from chaste to filthy in nothing flat. But that was often the way it was with Jason, his mood like his fire as it flared up and settled back down, stoked until the next time.

Tim blinked rapidly when the dragon finally released him, trying to gather his wits.

The other man looked altogether too pleased with himself. “There. No wandering off on me now, you hear?”

As though that was ever going to be a problem.

A couple hours later, Tim returned to the inn with a large bay gelding and a smaller brown packhorse in tow. New tack for both of them had been purchased and fitted, leaving his purse significantly lighter, for all that Jason had given him the coin to cover everything. He still didn’t like it, but this far from home, his own resources were dwindling.

Gaining the taproom, Tim spotted Jason holding court over by the fireplace. He chuckled at the sight of the locals crowded around him, listening to whatever story he was regaling them with.

Tim caught the attention of the pretty barmaid, a heavy tray balanced in one hand as she deftly wove between the tables. “What’s dinner tonight?”

She gave him an impatient look, eager to return to the story being told across the room. “Venison stew and a loaf of bread.”

“I’ll have that and an ale, please.”

The young woman nodded absently before making her way back to the fireplace.

Tim sat down at an empty table to watch Jason. This was the first time he’d had a chance to observe the dragon around anyone else and his fingers itched for his journal. Jason was, to put it mildly, simply captivating, even with his human glamor on. There was such a strong presence about him, one that drew people in despite the roguish exterior.

It had to be the smile, Tim decided when his dinner arrived.

To his surprise, Jason rose to join him, sitting down heavily across from him. “Did you buy dinner?” he asked with a wink.

“Yes, I did.” Tim pointedly looked down at his bowl. “Did you eat?” He didn’t expect Jason to, but he did have a cover to maintain as a human. How far did that extend?

“Oh, let me get you a bowl, Jason!” the barmaid said, having followed the dragon over to Tim’s table. She smiled, revealing a dimple in her cheek. “I’ll be right back!”

Tim snickered, watching her practically race into the kitchen. “You actually going it eat it?”

“Whatever I don’t choke down is going to you,” Jason replied, making a face at the thought of eating a human meal. “I don’t mind rare meat, but that,” he pointed at the bits of cooked meat floating in gravy along with some summer vegetables, “Is disgusting.”

“The things you do for your character.” Tim didn’t feel bad for him. At all.

Jason’s groan turned into a smile as the young woman brought an extra large bowl filled to the brim with the savory stew and some more bread. She beamed before she was called away to another table. Glowering at the bowl, he muttered, “Meat should be raw and bloody.” 

Tim made a mental note to invest in a herd of cattle specifically for Jason when they arrived home. The trouble would be worth it as it would keep the local populace happy and no one could say they’d lost a cow to the dragon’s appetite, such as it was. He’d known him for almost two weeks now and had yet to see a single bite pass his lips. Drink was another matter.

Wine and ale didn’t seem to garner comment and Jason partook of both equally, especially after he ate about half of the stew, dumping the rest into Tim’s bowl when he decided enough was enough. The young woman running between tables didn’t seem to mind topping off his ale at all. Tim was pretty sure it never went below the halfway point the entire time he was eating.

Once the empty bowls were taken away, Jason rejoined the crowd by the fireplace. He started telling another story and flirted shamelessly with all the women in the small crowd, much to their enjoyment and to Tim’s amusement. It reminded him of something Jason had said before they slept together for the first time, about his own preferences.  _Human women_. 

Jason had been alone at the inn for a while before Tim returned with the horses. Plenty of time to fool around after setting his protection spells. A flash of jealousy raced through him before he squashed it hard. They were not married. Yet. Until they were wed, Jason could do as he wished. Tim too for that matter, should he have the desire to do so. Besides, he had no right to be jealous of anything the dragon did. Jason had saved his sad excuse for a life and given him the chance to make something of it.

Tim was never going to be able to repay the favor. Not in this life or the next.

From across the room, Jason shot him a concerned look, making Tim force his eyes away from the man. He stood abruptly and tossed a few small coins onto the table. A bath would be great right about now. Nice and private.

He stopped by the bar and made the arrangements with the innkeeper, who said he’d inform his wife right away.

Tim was halfway up the front staircase before he realized he didn’t have the key to their room. He’d have to get it from Jason. And that meant approaching him while he was under the eye of his adoring audience. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

“Forget something?”

Turning, Tim saw Jason standing behind him, a couple steps down, and dangling a key from one long finger.

“Thanks.” Tim attempted to take it, but Jason drew it back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes flashing in the low light of the stairwell.

“Nothing is wrong,” Tim replied. He tried to shrug it off, but it was obvious the dragon wasn’t buying it. “I want a bath and some clean clothes.” Jason should know by now just how fastidious he was and hoped his regular habits would play in his favor.

“Don’t lie to me, Tim. I can _smell it_.”

Double shit. Since when was this a thing he had to be concerned about? Smelling a lie? How was that possible? He knew dogs could scent emotions to an extent. Was this similar? Tim gave himself a mental shake and forced himself to focus. “I thought I’d give you some alone time,” he stated, trying to sound as matter of fact as possible. “You know, for…whatever. Or whoever.”

There. He said it.

The dragon closed the distance between them, standing on the stair just below Tim to look him directly in the eyes. “Do you want me to?” Jason asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Tim replied, trying to hide his discomfiture. “You’re the one who’s doing me the favor of a lifetime.” 

The answer did not satisfy the other man and Jason leaned forward, his all too human eyes still managing to blaze with their intensity. “What you want matters, Tim. You’ve never had the freedom to speak up about it before, but with me, you always will. So tell me,  _what do you want?_ ”

“I…” Tim didn’t know. The option to choose, to have a say in matters of the heart was not something he was used to having. Realization crashed down on him, bringing with it stunning clarity that Jason truly could give him everything he secretly desired. Acceptance. Companionship. A true partnership of equals. 

In that moment, Tim fell in love. And immediately cursed himself because how could a  _dragon_ ever return the love of a human? Rather than face those still unearthly blue eyes, he snatched the room key out of Jason’s hand. “I want a bath. I’ll see you later.”

There was a small chamber at the back of the inn where, for a few coins, he could wash up in a small copper tub. The innkeeper’s wife brought several kettles of hot water for him while he filled a few buckets with cold water from the well in the courtyard. She fussed over him and brought him soap and a clean towel to dry with while promising his laundry would be done by morning. He’d spent two days here last time, enjoying the simple hospitality that wasn’t present in larger inns that he could have frequented instead. 

“Now, if you need anything, just ring that bell,” she said, pointing to a small cord hanging off to the side. 

“I will,” Tim promised and finally shooed her out. He stripped down and lowered himself into the bright tub. The water felt wonderful even if it paled in comparison to Jason’s luxurious bathing chamber. He ducked his head under the water, holding his breath for as long as he could before he came up spluttering. 

What was wrong with him? Yes, Tim would freely admit he found Jason attractive. A person would have to be blind not to. He enjoyed what they had between them, shiny and new as it was. But what would it be like next year? Or the year after that? Things he should have thought of before accepting this little offer swarmed through his mind. He’d been so focused on his immediate situation that he lost track of the bigger one. 

Tim never once believed he’d ever marry for love. He was of a high enough station his wife would be chosen for him, if his mother ever decided. She’d be furious the choice was taken away from her and that she wouldn’t have someone new to terrorize. Jason wouldn’t stand for it. At all. 

And that was the crux of it, he realized. With Jason at his side, anything was possible. Choices that he never had before were now his, including whether or not he wanted to let his betrothed screw around with the barmaid. He shoved that thought out of his head. They’d agreed almost from day one that they would be faithful after their wedding. This was not something he’d take away from him. 

Jealousy, Tim decided as he dunked his head under the water again, was an ugly thing. 

When he resurfaced, Jason was standing beside the tub staring down at him, the small downward twist of his mouth indicating his displeasure. 

“Are you trying to drown yourself? I didn’t think humans could breathe underwater.”

Tim shook his head, brushing back his hair so he could see better. “No, we don’t. I just like to hold my breath. It’s quieter under there.” He blinked some droplets of water out of his eyes. “Did you need something?”

He would not bring up his abrupt dismissal. Not unless Jason did. 

The dragon leaned over him, hands grasping the edges of the tub as he moved closer. His nostrils flared slightly, scenting the air, scenting Tim. “You panicked earlier when I asked what you wanted. Why?”

Trust Jason to not beat around the bush. It would be refreshing if it weren’t directed at him. “You startled me,” Tim admitted, trying to hedge. He refused to state the real reason why he left. “I’m not used to being asked what I want.”

That should be safe enough. 

Jason’s eyes crinkled, clearly not buying it. “You looked scared about something.” His voice lowered and he cast his gaze down, as uncertainty entered his expression. “Did _I_ scare you?”

Tim sat up in a rush, water spilling over the edge of the tub and on the floor, splashing Jason for all that he paid no notice to it. “ _No_ ,” he said vehemently. “You didn’t scare me. At all. I’ve never once been scared of you. If I were, do you think we’d have done everything we have together?”

Lazy afternoons spent by the small stream, Jason tracing idle patterns into Tim’s bare skin as they regaled each other with stories of their various adventures. Evenings in the cave sitting in companionable silence with their respective books. And the nights...Tim doubted he’d ever want to share a bed with anyone else, even if he only ever cuddled with Jason ever again. 

“You could have forced yourself, thinking it was what I wanted. Humans are capable of that,” Jason tried. He looked utterly miserable at the thought. 

Tim grabbed hold of his chin and forced his head up, locking eyes with him. “Yes, people do that. All the time. But I am _not_ one of them. If I wasn’t interested in men, that first bath would have gone a lot differently. You’re attracted to my brain. Well, I’m attracted to the full package.”

Jason searched Tim’s face for a lie, nostrils flaring again as he sought out any trace of untruth. He must have finally believed him as he relaxed. “You’re not the only one who’s attracted to everything too.”

The admission rocked Tim and he sat heavily in the cooling water. “Why? I’m not anything special to look at.”

A snort of amusement followed by puff of smoke was Jason’s first response. “You’re not seeing through my eyes,” he stated once the smoke was under control again. “Standards of beauty change every year it seems but I have my own particular tastes. And while elven men aren’t quite so short, you share many of the same physical characteristics they do.”

Tim bristled. “I’m not _that_ short.” The top of his head was level with Jason’s nose when they were standing upright. 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

This time, the splash was on purpose. 

 


	5. The Journey Home

They continued their journey east the next morning, Jason grumbling about his saddle and ungodly hours. Tim didn’t pay him any mind as the dragon wasn’t a morning person. He’d learned before they even embarked on this trip that dragons were typically rather active at dusk and dawn and then settled in for long naps. The term Jason used was _crepuscular_ , which was new to him, but it did explain why cats went bonkers around those times of day too.

The comparison to a cat earned Tim a swat upside his head and a massive eye-roll.

With the addition of a second horse and a more evenly spread load on the packhorse, they made much better time than they did before. During his journey west, Tim hadn’t been in too much of a rush to meet his fiery death, but there was a pressing urgency to return home now that he held the ultimate hand in his deck of cards. It was a heady feeling to finally be able to tell his mother where to shove it.

In the evenings, camp was set up as the sun went down. Or rather, Tim would set camp while Jason lit their fire. He would then wander off into the woods to hunt or, if they were near a stream, he’d fish. The dragon was peculiar in this habit, never wanting Tim to wander off by himself even if he was perfectly capable of setting traps for wayward rabbits or fishing.

Personally, Tim suspected it was because Jason never wanted to take care of the horses, leaving the brushing and feeding to him.

Whatever the reason was, by the time Tim was ready to start his dinner, there was something waiting for him. A freshly skinned rabbit already spitted. Scaled and gutted fish. Sometimes there would be other things, like berries or wild onions. Tim had taught Jason (for a change) about what kind of berries were actually edible by humans after he’d brought a handful of baneberries. That resulted in a trek through the forest to where the dragon had found them and a quick lesson on why he couldn’t eat these. Tim had spent some time under the ranger Cassandra’s tutelage and he was well versed in what was edible and what wasn’t in this part of the world.

Needless to say, Jason was mortified that he’d almost poisoned him. He hovered close for the next few days, behavior that seemed very much like a mother-hen, even after reassurances that Tim wasn’t upset over the simple mistake. Yet another thing that was added to the rapidly growing list of dragonisms. Or Jasonisms, Tim wasn’t entirely sure yet.

One night, Jason was a later than usual in returning to camp. He normally returned as soon as it was full dark with his daily offering. Tim wasn’t sure what to think but it did put him on edge as he pondered what manner of creature could cause problems for a fully grown dragon, and one capable of magic at that. He kept his staff close as he started preparing dinner from his sack of trail rations instead, adding in the remainder of the wild onions from the night before, as well as the watercress he found by the creek.

Soup it was then. It wouldn’t be the first time.

His meal was coming to a simmer when Jason returned. “Shit. I didn’t think I’d be this late,” he said, striding into the circle of firelight. He carried a large bone with a chunk of meat at the other end, lightly seared from the looks of it as it was no longer raw or bloody.

Tim unobtrusively removed his hand from his staff and rocked back on his heels. “What happened?”

“I got hungry finally.” Jason handed him the bone, pride practically oozing from him. “I saved you some. We’ll need a late start tomorrow though. I’m gonna sleep _hard_ tonight.”

He accepted it, but his thoughts were racing at the implication of what he just heard. Jason had gotten hungry. The dragon only ate while in his true form, so that meant he _shifted_. Tim wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry because seeing Jason in his dragon form was at the very top of his (recently updated) list of things to see before he died.

His conflicting emotions and lack of an immediate response garnered him a concerned look. “What’s wrong?” Jason asked, kneeling next to him. “I know you can eat venison, so it can’t be that.”

Tim sighed and cast his gaze onto the raw bone in his hand. It appeared to be from the leg of a deer. The bright white of the cleaned bone contrasted sharply with the chunk of flesh remaining at the other end. He could just imagine Jason carefully cleaning it and searing the meat just enough to retain the juices inside. “I can’t figure out how to say this without sounding petulant, but I’ve wanted to see your dragon form ever since we met. And when you finally did, I wasn’t there to see it.”

There was also the matter that while Jason knew quite a bit about humans, Tim still didn’t know much about dragons. His companion was rather tightlipped about the topic when directly asked, but he would let things slip every now and again. He even understood why since the only thing humans ever did was go out on random quests to kill dragons. Being secretive about his race and their habits made perfect sense. Why should Jason trust Tim with information like this so soon into their friendship?

Jason wrapped his arms around Tim, careful not to dislodge the bone he still gripped tightly. His breath ruffled Tim’s hair as he spoke. “I know you do. And I will show it to you one day. To be honest, I wasn’t thinking about that earlier. I came upon a herd of deer and my hunger just hit me. I’ve been feeling it coming on for the last few days, and just didn’t say anything.”

Tim twisted in Jason’s arms to shoot him a wry look. “You thought I would make another no eating the horses comment?”

“Well, yeah. It seems to be our running joke.” Jason smiled crookedly and leaned in to kiss the crown of Tim’s head. “Next time I get hungry, I’ll speak up sooner. We can go hunting together.”

“That sounds like fun. Thank you.” Tim returned the smile with one of his own and kissed the corner of Jason’s mouth. He paused as another thought occurred to him. “You said you found a _herd_ of deer. Just how many did you eat?” Pulling back from Jason’s arms, he took in the man’s all too human form. “And where are you keeping it?”

The dragon laughed, teeth gleaming in the firelight. “How much understanding do you have of magical theory and dimensional displacement?”

Tim groaned in disappointment. “Next to nothing. No spark, remember?”

“There are other ways to learn magic,” Jason replied, a wicked gleam in his eye. “And when we have time to talk about it, we can explore those together. Remember, part of our bargain is you getting to use that big brain of yours for something other than stupid quests your parents send you on.”

“And what are you getting out of it?” Tim finally dared to ask.

Jason grinned as he leaned in and stole a kiss from Tim’s willing lips. “I get the greatest treasure in all the land,” he whispered before doing it again.

Tim rather thought the dragon needed to have his head checked, but it was hard to protest when Jason’s mouth was on his. Which was probably the point and while he could come up with all the arguments in the world about why he wasn’t a treasure like the dragon believed he was, Jason would in all likelihood provide a counterargument. The first one being to shut up and stop thinking while he kissed him.

It was a good idea and Tim laughed to himself when Jason plucked the bone out of his hand and set it down by the fire. His hands started tugging at the laces of his tunic. Yes, it was a good idea indeed to let Jason work his persuasive magic on him, all without having said a word.

~*~*~*~

A late summer storm delayed them for a few days, leaving them trapped in a drafty cave that Tim would normally have issues keeping warm on his own, but with Jason’s assistance, they managed to keep the wind and rain out. The delay had him chaffing at the bit and when they finally emerged, he had them push hard to make up the lost time. Jason, like he always did, complained about the pace as it made it difficult for him to read. Traveling by horse wasn’t something he was used to. 

But Tim felt a pressing need for home. “I’m not sure why I feel like this. It’s like an itch in the back of my skull and it’s growing by the hour.”

Jason nodded, accepting his words at face value. “You said you have mage blood in you through your father’s side, right?” he asked as they started off that morning at an easy walk to warm up the horses. 

“I do.”

“Might be that while you don’t have what humans call the spark, you may have gotten something else, like an empathic link to the land.”

Tim snorted in laughter because that was one of the most ridiculous things he’d ever heard. “You’re kidding.”

“I swear to the Lady above that I’m not.” Jason even raised his arm to the sky to emphasize his point. “It’s relatively common in halflings actually. But elves and some fae have it too. That’s usually how mage talent gets passed on to humans. Someone fucked someone they probably didn’t mean to and one of your ancestors was born.”

Once again, the dragon’s blunt manner of speech had Tim reeling in surprise. He was going to turn heads in more ways than one when they arrived home. “I’m sure my mother would just love to hear that,” he replied dryly. “She’s all about bloodlines.”

“Then how the hell do you expect to continue yours by marrying me?” Jason cocked his head to the side to stare at him curiously. 

“You’re assuming I care about that,” Tim stated. “I’ve already taken it into consideration and have an heir in mind already.”

“Oh?”

“Mar’i. She’s Dick and Kori’s daughter.”

Jason nodded in understanding. “I remember you telling me about them. Kori’s that exiled princess?”

“Right. From a country called Tamaran, far to the south.” Koriand’r was her full name, but hardly anyone ever called her that. Tim privately thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and that Dick was lucky to have caught her eye. The exotic princess and the knight met at Bruce’s court and many thought she was marrying beneath her station. But that was one of the wonderful things about Kori. She didn’t see it that way. Tamaraneans married for love whenever possible and since she no longer had a country to return to (a natural disaster of epic proportions destroyed it), Kori was free to marry whomever she wished.

Tim didn’t think she and Dick would mind that he was commandeering their daughter to be his heir, Kori in particular. Mar’i was smart, quick, and just as compassionate as her parents. She’d make a good duchess when the time came.

“You’re deflecting, you know.” Jason side-eyed Tim from atop his big, still unnamed, bay.

“I know I am. I’m not sure what to make of it.” Did he really have a talent like Jason said? It was…kind of exciting if he did. Tim tried to remember if there were other times he’d felt like this and was surprised to find there were quite a few.

The dragon smiled knowingly when he spoke up about it. “I thought you might have. You care strongly for your homeland and wish only to protect it and the people who live there.”

“Even if it means going on stupid quests to kill a dragon?”

“Especially then.”

The late summer rolled into early autumn. Leagues disappeared under the hooves of their horses as they traveled east, getting closer and closer to the duchy Tim called home. As the lands became less wild, he couldn’t help but wonder who was in charge of bringing in the harvest this year. He normally toiled along with everyone else, lending a helping hand where needed. If Dick had obeyed his orders, then he should be there overseeing things as his father rarely did, even if it was the perfect excuse to get out of the manor and away from his mother.

One day, Tim reined Robin in and gazed out over the wide valley below. The road disappeared over a steep cliff, a series of switchbacks allowing horse and rider to safely traverse the way down to the valley floor. The air was dusty in the afternoon sun, creating a soft golden glow through which to view the bountiful land below. “We’re here,” he finally stated. “All of this, everything you see, is my home.” 

“About fucking time,” Jason grumbled, rubbing his face and smearing the dust from the road into the light perspiration that dotted his brow. “I’m sick of smelling horse that I can’t eat.”

At this point, it was a common complaint and Tim ignored him. “It’s still at least two days ride to the manor, but once we get down there, water will be plentiful and we can finally wash some of this dust off.” 

“What are we waiting for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Tim nudged Robin into an easy walk and continued on. 

As soon as they arrived on the valley floor, Tim felt an overwhelming sense of peace come over him. He kicked his feet free from his stirrups and swung off Robin’s back to the ground, walking a few paces away to let the sensation simply flow through him. This had happened to him once before, when he arrived home after the war and his sojourn in Kandor. But this time, thanks to Jason, he knew it for what it was.

His own lands were welcoming him home.

Tim closed his eyes and listened. Birds chirping in the trees. The angry chatter of a squirrel in the distance. The horses snuffling behind him. There was the faint sound of running water ahead of them. And then he felt it, a beating sound rather like his own heart, pulsing and matching his. Or rather, his adjusting to match it. Jason had told him this was possible when he explained what the earth talent was and how it supposedly worked. The land itself was sentient and could tell him what was going on if he knew how to listen properly.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there beside the road, but when Tim opened his eyes, he felt as though he’d just woken from a long sleep, refreshed and ready to press on.

Jason grinned knowingly as Tim mounted Robin and settled back into the saddle. “You felt it.”

It wasn’t a question and Tim grinned right back. “I did. You were right.”

“When am I not?”

That evening, they struck an early camp along the bank of the stream that crossed the road. Tim relished the feeling of being clean after sloughing off almost a week’s worth of road dust. Jason apparently felt the same way, but after washing up, he simply basked in the warm sun, quickly falling into a light doze. The sight of him stretched out, skin touched by the later afternoon sun, would never grow old.

Tim could have stared until darkness fell, but his stomach rumbled, so after rinsing out his clothes, he shrugged the damp shirt and leggings on to forage for dinner. The woods around them were as bountiful as the fields further on if one knew how to look. And he most certainly did, walking about with a confidence he never lacked for in his lands.

When he returned, there were two fat fish waiting for him, already spitted and roasted alongside a small campfire that was crackling cheerfully. His little cast iron stew pot hung over the fire, half full of water and simmering gently. Jason still lounged by the stream, looking for all the world like he hadn’t moved an inch, but Tim didn’t miss the slitted eye that was watching him carefully.

“What are you going to do when we arrive home?” Tim asked, not bothering to hide his grin. For whatever reason, the dragon enjoyed spoiling him. “I doubt Cook is going to appreciate you taking over her kitchen.” The thought of Jason before the massive fireplace in the large kitchen of Drake Manor, turning a spit and slow roasting a pig with periodic bursts of flame was enough to make him chuckle quietly.

Jason stretched lazily, arching his back and raising his arms to purposefully draw Tim’s attention away from his dinner. “We’ll figure that out when the time comes. I’m sure your mother is going to try and browbeat one of us into women’s duties.”

“I already do quite a few of those,” Tim offered, turning his gaze back to his dinner. Soup and fish, two things he was getting quite tired of. “Mother is rarely around enough to do anything besides give orders that Mrs. Mac will mostly ignore in favor of my standing instructions. I’m sure I’ll be coming home to a mess though.”

“Probably. We’ll find out in two days.”

Two days. In two days, Tim would be home and this entire debacle of a quest could be put behind him. Considering what he expected the original outcome to be, he rather thought he was coming out ahead here. A dragon for a husband and enough treasure to buy off his parents and send them packing.

Said dragon was very patiently waiting while Tim finished putting all his ingredients into his little pot to simmer. There was no mistaking the intent look in his eyes.

“Done,” Tim pronounced, answering said look with one of his own.

Jason pounced, wrapping him in strong arms and rolling him away from the fire. “We’ll figure things out,” he said, bracing himself over Tim with his arms on either side of Tim’s head. “Part of this plan is to cause some chaos after all.” 

“And you thrive on that, don’t you?” Tim responded, running a hand through Jason’s hair where his horns normally were. 

The dragon shuddered under the touch, just as he always did. “Only sometimes.” 

“Right.” Tim didn’t believe it for a second, but there were more important things to focus on, such as getting his shirt off without ripping it and removing his leggings while somehow kicking off his boots. There was a lot of delicious squirming involved, his skin eventually coming into contact with Jason’s even warmer skin. 

This wasn’t the first time they’d coupled in the twilight, the only real illumination from the campfire. But it was the first time they’d done so in Tim’s homeland, with naught but the soft grass by the stream beneath them. As they worked themselves towards their peak, Tim felt different. There was a heightened sense of anticipation around him (around _them_ ). He wasn’t sure what it meant and he didn’t care, not right now, not while he had Jason pinned to the ground for a change, thrusting into his warm body. Tim bit at his lips and made his way down the column of Jason’s neck, before stopping at the juncture of his shoulder. Jason's head slammed back into the earth as Tim mouthed at the sensitive skin, and then bit down hard. 

The dragon's eyes blazed a brilliant blue, his glamor dropping as he lost control. He snarled loudly as his body arched in release, claws tearing at the ground rather than Tim’s skin. He clenched tight around Tim and he too came with a loud shout, spilling into his lover’s body. 

For a brief moment, as Tim rode out the intense orgasm, he felt the world _pulse_ beneath them, around them, as if it had also been pent up for far too long. Jason’s eyes shone even brighter and took on a rich green hue before settling back into his vibrant blue. 

“What was that?” Tim gasped, collapsing on top of him as his arms gave out. 

Jason was quiet as he thought it over, but then a very pleased little smirk appeared before disappearing almost as fast. He wrapped his arms around Tim, long nails running gently up and down his spine and into his hair. Tim shivered under the touch. It had been too long since he felt them. “I’m not sure,” he finally said. “I need to check a few things and all of those particular books are back in my cave.” 

“Just our luck.” 

The dragon nuzzled Tim’s hair. “I consider myself very lucky, indeed. Now go eat. Your soup is almost overcooked.” 

~*~*~*~

The next morning, they managed to get an early start. The itch in Tim’s mind had settled somewhat the night before, but it was back in full force as he mounted Robin. There was something wrong in his lands, something that needed his attention immediately. And as tempting as it was to ride full tilt to Drake Manor, there was another place they could reach by early afternoon and discover what was going on, if they pressed hard. 

Grayson House, home of Dick and Kori. Tim didn’t expect Dick to be there, but Kori would be. His friend always kept his wife informed of current events, especially those concerning the overall wellbeing of their home. And if he did have to rush home, then he could swap horses there and leave Robin behind for a well-deserved rest. 

Jason simply nodded when Tim informed him of the slight deviation in plans. His human glamor was back on. “Even I can tell you’ve got ants in your pants. Let’s get a move on then." 

Tim didn’t have to be told twice. They were soon thundering down the road, leagues passing under the hooves of their horses. Even with the sense of urgency bearing down on him, Tim knew better than to press the already tired horses hard, staggering their pace to make the most of what they had left. 

Hours later, they rounded a curve and Tim led them down an extremely familiar side road. Grayson House was as much his home as Drake Manor was, perhaps more so because here, he learned what a family was supposed to be and was a welcome member of it. 

The large house soon loomed in the distance, gates wide open for the day. Dick had no concerns with leaving his wife alone in country when business and duty called him elsewhere. Kori was every inch a warrior in her own right and fully capable of defending her home should the need arise. She was also the county magistrate, a fact that Tim was extremely proud of having slipped past his parents as it required his father’s signature to sign off on. He was fairly certain Jack Drake knew what his son had done, but didn’t say anything, even after his lady wife, Janet, learned of it and attempted to change his mind. 

Jack simply stated that Koriand’r was a princess in her own country and that despite her odd appearance, there was a sharp mind behind those solid green eyes, so who was he to deprive her the opportunity to use it? It was one of the few times Tim had ever seen his father stand up to his mother and he loved every single moment of it. 

In the circular courtyard, Tim practically threw himself off Robin’s back and ran up the steps to the house. He knocked loudly and resisted the urge to shout, stomping down on his impatience as he waited for the old butler, Mr. Haly to open the door. He used to run the group of traveling performers Dick grew up with. His friend gave them all a home here after he settled in, should they ever wish to take him up on it. A few did, including the old man Tim only ever knew as Pop Haly. 

The old man soon opened the door, his normally easy-going face lighting up in excitement as he recognized Tim. “My lord Timothy! You’re alive!” 

“Alive and kicking,” Tim agreed and gladly accepted the man’s still chubby hand that tugged him into a tight embrace. There was never any formality here, a fact that Tim appreciated more than he could ever properly express. “I’ve got quite the story for all of you, but I need to see Kori right away. I assume Dick isn’t here?” 

Mr. Haly released Tim with a hearty slap on his back. “I look forward to that story, my boy. But you’re right. Dickie isn’t here. He’s in Gotham. Let me ring up the lads to take care of your horses and find the missus. She was out with little Mar’i last I knew.” He ducked back inside. 

Tim turned to Jason and spotted him at the bottom of the steps, the bundles and chests containing the pieces of his hoard already resting at his feet. He raised an eyebrow in amusement at Tim’s surprised expression. “Come on. You should know my habits by now.” 

“I do,” Tim chuckled wryly. “There’s a sitting room just off the main hall. We can wait in there.” 

He and Jason, as well as the precious bundles, were soon inside and out of the warm sun. The sitting room was well appointed, but there were still touches of hominess that Tim recognized as out of place in a formal setting, the main one being Kori and Mar’i’s art hanging on the walls. Jason paced around the room slowly, taking in each watercolor with an appraising eye. He had a taste for art, but as Tim had learned, it was eclectic and reflected his own preferences rather than anything else. 

Tim stood as well, enjoying the stretch after being in the saddle for so long. He saw a couple of stable boys lead their horses away and Mr. Haly soon returned with cool refreshments before leaving them be. 

It was hard to resist the urge to pace and Tim soon gave in to it. Why was Dick in Gotham? This close to harvest, the furthest away he should be was Bristol, the town that built up around Drake Manor. Gotham was at least seven days ride from here, if the horses weren’t swapped out. What was going on? What had he missed in his absence? The prickling feeling was even worse now. 

“You’re gonna pace a hole in that carpet if you don’t stop,” Jason commented. He’d finally sat down on one of the lounge chairs and was sipping at the lemonade they’d been brought. Tim thought it a touch too sweet, but he’d never been much of one for sweets in the first place. 

“Something is wrong,” he stated flatly. “Dick shouldn’t be in Gotham. Not at this time of year.” 

“Try and relax.” Jason attempted to coax him into sitting, but it didn’t work. “You’ll find out what’s happening soon enough.” 

“Soon needs to arrive faster.” Tim took a few large swallows from the cold glass and set it aside, continuing his pacing. 

They soon heard the sound of running feet across the tile floor outside the sitting room. Tim stopped and braced himself, just in time to catch the little black haired girl who launched herself at him as soon as she flung open the door. 

“Uncle Timmy!” Mar’i shouted in excitement. Her little arms clung tightly around Tim’s neck and he held her close, smelling the sunshine and fresh air in her hair. “You’re alive! That means you killed a dragon, right?” She pushed back enough to give Tim a serious look, her green eyes staring at him in a manner befitting an adult rather than an eight year old. 

“I am alive,” he replied. “But I didn’t kill the dragon.” 

“Good.” Mar’i pronounced firmly. “The dragon never did anything to you.” 

“That’s what I said,” Jason chimed in. 

The child looked over at the still seated man and her eyes narrowed. Tim was almost positive she, as well as Kori, would be able to see through Jason’s glamor considering some of their particular talents, but he wasn’t ready to discuss this with her yet. Not until her mother arrived. “Where’s Kori?” he asked. 

“Right here,” a breathless voice stated from the doorway. A stunning redheaded woman stood in the doorway, dressed in men’s riding clothes. Kori eschewed societal expectations at the drop of a hat and only wore a dress when she had to. Even then, she preferred clothing designed in the style of her lost homeland, which caused more than a few tongues to wag at the amount of skin she revealed. 

Tim grinned even as another set of arms embraced him and swung him around, Mar’i too. “Mommy!” she cried out, squirming between the two adults. “Uncle Timmy’s home!” 

“I see that, sweetie.” Kori released Tim and pried her daughter out of his arms to give him another hug. “Now just give me a moment to enjoy it.” Her green eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she held him close. “Oh, Tim. I am overjoyed that you’ve returned to us in one piece. Dick will be ecstatic to learn you’re alive.” 

“About that,” Tim started, prying Kori’s arms from around his neck. He tilted his head back slightly to gaze up at her. “Where is he? I heard he was in Gotham?” 

Kori nodded firmly. “Yes. King Bruce has kept him there as a witness to the trial.” 

“What trial?” There was a sinking feeling in Tim’s stomach. 

“The trial of the Duke and Duchess of Drake.” 

Tim’s stomach hit the floor. He barely heard Jason stand but felt his warm presence behind him, giving him the silent support he needed. “Why are my parents on trial?” 

Kori shook her head and tapped Tim on the forehead with a long finger. “Various crimes against the crown, but namely the murder of one of King Bruce’s most trusted advisors.” 

“Who?” He didn’t want to hear the answer. He really didn’t. What under the sun had possessed his parents to try and kill an advisor to the king? That never ended well. For anyone. 

“Don’t be dense, Tim.” Kori poked him again, harder this time. “It’s you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On that note, Tim's adventures will continue in two weeks rather than next week so that I can focus on JayTim week that starts on Monday. I am hopeful to have two pieces finished for it, maybe four if I get my butt in gear and finish them.


	6. Current Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm a day late with my update. This chapter was a pain in the rear to write.

To say that Tim was in shock was putting it mildly. He blinked rapidly as he tried to absorb the news. “But I’m alive,” he tried to argue. “I’ve barely been gone two months, almost three. For someone to be declared legally dead, without a body, it’s supposed to be five years.” Kori should know this. She was the magistrate. 

“I know, Tim,” Kori replied soothingly. “But under extenuating circumstances, that rule can change. They sent you off to fight a dragon. Despite what the stories say, that’s not something someone comes back from. Dick and your friend Kon spent the better part of a month researching this while waiting for your parents to arrive in Gotham for the inquiry.” 

Tim took a step back and brushed against Jason’s strong chest. “Wait a minute. _Kon_ is here?” 

Kori sighed and shook her head. “Sit down and I’ll explain what’s happened since you left.” 

“Please,” Tim said faintly and let Jason guide him to the sofa. The dragon was hovering, but trying not to be obvious about it. Mar’i climbed up next to him and snuggled close. “I smell like horse,” he chided, but she made a face at him. 

“So do I.” 

Jason took a seat next to him and Mar’i peered cautiously at him from her spot under Tim’s arm. Tim suddenly remembered his manners. Sucking in a deep breath, he spoke. “Kori, Mar’i, this is Jason. He’s my fiancé.” Considering the circumstances, he could be excused for omitting titles. 

Kori’s already large green eyes widened in surprise. “Tim, you know I will support you in whatever choices you make for your own happiness, but you do know that he’s not…” 

“Human?” Jason finished with a sharp smirk. “Oh, he’s well aware I’m not.” 

“What are you?” Mar’i asked in that plain manner of speech only a child can get away with. Her green eyes gleam, just like her mother’s. “I see horns.” 

Jason dropped his glamor, the light shimmering before settling into his real human-like form. There wasn’t a point in wearing it when the lady of the house could see right through it, just as her daughter could. Tim had warned Jason that they probably would, considering Kori’s lineage. Tamaraneans were more fae than human but never once had Tim seen Kori have an issue with iron or steel. 

“I’m the dragon Tim was supposed to kill.” 

Tim raised his hand immediately as both Kori and Mar’i clamored for the story to calm them down and glared at Jason. “I’ll tell my story soon enough. My parents, please,” he asked in an authoritative tone. Drama wasn’t what he needed right now. He needed facts. 

Kori sat down in a chair across from them and rested her hands on her knees. It was a stance Tim had seen many times from her as she chose her words. This language was not her native one and in times of stress or excitement, she’d lapse back into her own. “I expect nothing less,” she finally said. “Here is what occurred after you left us…” 

Dick took the news of Tim’s quest hard, even worse than he’d originally expected. The very same morning Tim left Grayson House on his journey westward, he was on the road to Gotham, with Kori and Mar’i all but shoving out the door. The vow Tim had extracted from him said nothing about going there. He’d made it in less than a week, pushing himself and his horses hard. 

The king was not pleased when he heard the news. Dick was one of Bruce’s most trusted allies in the murky world of Gotham politics, viewing the knight almost like a son. His words carried a lot of weight, especially against a powerful member of the king’s court as the Duke of Drake. The fact that Bruce had placed a ban on such pointless quests amongst the younger knights in their attempts to curry favor and claim such feats of valor and bravery helped. 

“More like stupidity,” Jason muttered quietly. 

Tim elbowed him in the ribs almost absently, focused as he was on Kori’s story. “Hush.” 

Regular tournaments weeded out the brash and foolish, but Tim wasn’t someone who needed to prove his worth in such a way. He was a war hero and a skilled diplomat in his own right, having trained under Lord Marshal Gordon. When he was present in Gotham, people took notice and even older members of Bruce’s circle of advisors listened when Tim spoke. 

To see him sent on such quest to supposedly prove his worth as the heir of a powerful duchy when he’d already more than proven himself in his own right was downright stupid. 

“Those were apparently Selina’s words when Dick spoke to her and Bruce,” Kori explained. 

Tim snorted, trying to hold back his laugh. He knew his queen. “I doubt they were quite that clean.” 

Kori chuckled and shook her head. She and Selina were friends of a sort; their bond more of mutual respect than anything else. “They weren’t but Dick asked that I not swear in front of Mar’i anymore.” 

“I don’t mind, Mommy,” the little girl piped up. “I know I’m not supposed to repeat it in front of Daddy." 

Beside him, Tim could feel Jason suppressing his own laughter. He knew right then and there that once this mess was straightened out, he’d probably teach Mar’i how to swear in at least half a dozen languages just because he could. Dick was going to _love_ that. Tim made a mental note to be in another room when that clash occurred. Perhaps outside the house altogether. 

“I know, my darling,” Kori said, smiling fondly at her daughter. “Your father has such archaic ways of thinking sometimes. Women have been swearing as long as men have.” 

Tim shoved his elbow into Jason’s quavering ribs again. He was impossible. 

Kori continued with her story. 

Using the violation of the frivolous quests ban as his excuse, Bruce summoned Jack and Janet Drake to Gotham for questioning. During the time it took for them to arrive, Dick sent a message to Kandor to inform Prince Kon-El of what happened to his best friend. It didn’t take long for Kon to arrive. In fact, he managed to before the Drakes did, all righteous fury and demanding that Bruce let him challenge the Duke to a dual, even though they’d been outlawed in both Kandor and Gotham. 

Kon could be a bit of a hothead at times, something Tim knew all too well. 

When the Drakes learned they were facing an inquiry into their son’s whereabouts, Jack was the first to speak privately with Bruce. He stated that while he of course knew that Tim was on a quest, he’d been under the impression it was one that his son wanted to take, that he felt the need to challenge himself. What Jack didn’t know was that his only heir was off to kill a dragon. The news nearly caused him to relapse back into one of his fits. 

Tim shook his head slowly, remembering the last time he saw his father. “Father and I barely spoke before I left. He was ill at the time, recovering from his last bout of the falling sickness. I only told him that I’d be gone for a while and would see him soon.” He hadn’t wanted to worry him, not with the recent fit he was recovering from. It was a condition his father had suffered from for years, ever since he routed a group of bandits from their lands and fell when his horse was shot out from under him. His head injuries had been severe.   

“That’s what he told Bruce too,” Kori stated gently. “He wasn’t entirely certain of the circumstances behind your decision, but he said you were always trying to prove your worth to him and your mother. He also said you didn’t have to. That you’ve always been worthy because you’re his son.” 

Tim was standing before he even realized it, his throat closing as he forced down a sob. His father…Jack Drake never spoke about how he felt. He was of the belief that actions spoke louder than words, but even then, those actions were never directed at him. Only at his mother. Dick knew this, and by extension Kori did too. They wouldn’t lie about something so important to him. If his father said this to Bruce, then it had to be true. 

“It was all Mother, then?” he said quietly, fists clenched. 

Kori stood and nodded, wrapping her arms around him to hold him close. “She’d been speaking with a number of other ladies at court. They were singing the praises of their children’s recent accomplishments. You’ve been holed up in Bristol for a couple years now, so she felt she needed to come up with a story to top them all.” 

 _“Holed up in Bristol?”_ Tim bit out each word and pushed himself away from his friend. “I was _there_ because they never were! Who else is supposed to run an entire duchy? The other heir they have tucked away somewhere?” He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm down. 

“I know,” Kori replied, reaching out and running her fingers calmingly through his hair. She was as tactile as Dick. “Things have gotten out of control. But you’re home now, you’re in one piece, and you have a fire breathing dragon to guard your back against whatever else Janet comes up with.” 

Said fire breathing dragon was also on his feet, a solid wall of support and warmth at his shoulder. Tim sighed heavily and leaned back, Jason’s arms wrapping around him instantly. “I do have a dragon in my pocket, don’t I?” He glanced up at him. 

Jason smirked roguishly and flashed his fangs. “It’s called _leverage_ , Tim. I bet all those old biddies will wet themselves in more ways than one when I come strolling in on your arm.” 

Behind them, Mar’i laughed and Tim groaned. He really hoped she didn’t understand the other part of what Jason had said because Dick would kill him. “Kori, I’m announcing here and now that I am in no way responsible for whatever Jason happens to teach your daughter.” 

“Noted,” she replied with a grin of her own. 

Mar’i and Jason both laughed at him. It wasn’t fair, they were already in cahoots and they hadn’t even known each other an hour yet. Life wasn’t going to be boring with Jason around, that much was certain. 

Tim tried to steer them back on topic. “You said Father spoke with Bruce. Did Mother?” 

Kori nodded and sat back down, Tim and Jason following suit. Mar’i cuddled in close again and Tim tucked her under his arm. “Yes. From what Dick wrote, it was quite the row because she didn’t believe she’d done anything wrong. Said it was your choice to leave on such a quest. The most she would admit to was planting the idea in your head.” 

That was not how Tim remembered the conversation going. Not at all. “There were quite a few other words spoken between us,” he stated flatly. “Many involving duty, glory, and for the pride of our house.” None of this was news to Kori. She’d been there along with Dick when he came riding up on his way west to inform them of what occurred. He had few secrets from his friends. 

“Dick already shared that information with Bruce,” Kori replied, folding her hands over her upraised knee. She never was much on formality in front of those she considered family. “But of course, it’s his word and mine, against that of a duchess.” 

“And we both know how the courts in this land will lean unless Bruce takes a direct hand. The fact that you’re a monarch of equal standing means nothing with what they consider your eccentricities.” Tim huffed a long breath, silently cursing how backwards the nobility could be. “I assume Bruce has stepped in if my parents are already up on murder charges?” 

“More like manslaughter,” Kori said. “Involuntary, at that, which is the best Dick and Kon could come up with since they don’t have a body. We knew you headed west when you left us, so scouts were sent to try and find you. There’s some neglect charges as well, but I doubt those will stick as the duchy is still running smoothly. Your father was nice enough to leave me in charge when he and Janet were summoned to Gotham.” 

At least his father did one smart thing. Tim nodded approvingly. “It can stay that way until I return from Gotham. But why aren’t you in Bristol?” 

“I was actually planning to leave tomorrow to start preparations for harvest.” 

“Then we’ll be going with you.” Tim glanced over at Jason. “And from there, we’ll head to Gotham.” 

~*~*~*~

Dinner was a quiet affair, a fact for which Tim was grateful as he was preoccupied, turning over Kori’s tale and methodically tearing it to pieces as he ate. She’d tried to deliver it factually, but all the information had come from Dick, so they both knew how biased it was already. It was something Lord Gordon had taught him. In order to be objective, one could only look at the facts. Kori was particularly skilled at it, which surprised many considering her passionate nature. 

But this wasn’t a diplomatic mission. Tim tried to turn his attention back on the roasted fowl and delicately sauced vegetables on his plate and simply couldn’t, for all that he recognized the food as his favorites. He’d thought being brought up on current events would relieve the itch in the back of his mind, but it hadn’t. It was still there, persistently gnawing at him. 

He listened as Jason regaled Kori and Mar’i, and by extension the staff who huddled close to the door, with the story over how they met and the bargain they struck. The plate in front of the dragon was mostly untouched, but he’d made a token attempt at eating the fowl, even if it did include the bones, much to Mar’i’s delight as she clapped her hands in glee. The child was no shrinking violet, and just as bold as both her parents. It was a trait they both encouraged in their daughter and she had a sharp mind to back it up. Heaven help the person she ended up marrying; they’d have to be nigh on impossible themselves. 

After the meal was over, Tim excused himself and made his way outside. The early evening was still warm, but it would cool down pleasantly enough now that the sun was barely under the horizon. He walked aimlessly, trying to make sense of the strong emotions coursing through his veins. 

His relationship with his parents wasn’t the greatest, but how could his mother do this to him? She sent him on a fool’s errand all for the sake of the glory it would bestow upon _her_ if he not only returned alive, but successful in his quest. Tim was well aware of how selfish she was; it was about the only thing he and his father agreed on when it came to her, but for all that, she was still his mother. A term he’d learned from elvish book came to mind. Narcissist. It fit her well and explained so much. Perhaps when he had some time, he’d translate the book to share with the medical community. 

Still, Tim couldn’t deny that his own desire to watch her face crumble when he arrived in Gotham with a fiancé had grown stronger. Even more so, her realization that the man at his back was no man at all, but a dragon. Same sex partners were rare in this kingdom, but were not unheard of, even if they were frowned upon. The general mindset was that it was something the young did in private before the onset of adult responsibilities. His relationship with Jason was something he refused to hide behind closed doors. Their marriage would set the precedence for others of its kind.   

Even though it was a loveless one. It was something Tim had reconciled himself to, despite his own feelings. Jason enjoyed his company, he knew this without a doubt. They both were strongly attracted to each other, another benefit to be sure. But the dragon considered him to be part of his hoard, which also meant Jason thought of him as a possession. It was a cute conceit, however inaccurate it was because Tim was a person, not an object, and couldn’t be stored neatly on a shelf. 

He shoved those thoughts from his mind. They were ones he’d rehashed many times over the course of their journey home. There was business here to be addressed first. 

Tim found himself alongside the fence of the massive paddock the horses were kept in. He rested his arms across the top of the wooden rail and watched them settle in. It promised to be a mild night, so leaving them outdoors wouldn’t do them any harm. One of the horses made their way towards him, and Tim smiled softly when Robin nickered in greeting. 

He rubbed her velvety nose as she tried to nibble at his sleeve. “I don’t have any treats, pretty lady. Think you’ve got one more day in you? We’ll be home tomorrow and you can have a good rest.” 

“I always catch you talking to her. I’m wondering if I should be jealous?” Jason leaned against the fence next to him, his back to the horses. His eyes shone brightly in the fading light. 

Tim chuckled as Robin huffed and pointedly ignored the dragon as she so often did. He should have known Jason wouldn’t let him out of sight for long. “If you’re so worried, you’ll be happy to know I’ll be riding a different horse to Gotham. This lady deserves a break.” 

“So do you,” Jason chided. “There’s no need to rush into anything. Lady Kori already said the lawyers for both sides are preparing their case to present before the king.” 

That was one thing Tim was glad of. King Bruce was a stickler for law and order while many other monarchs would simply be _off with their heads_ and wash their hands of the matter. His parents were under house arrest, confined to their rooms in the palace, something his mother undoubtedly railed against every day. It was as good a situation as any Tim could hope for. Once he arrived in Gotham, this would become his problem, not the king’s. 

“I know,” he agreed quietly. “But that itch I’ve been feeling hasn’t gone away at all. I thought it might when I caught up with events; if anything, it’s stronger than it was before.” 

“Yours is a patriarchal kingdom, right?” Jason asked, crossing his arms as his brow furrowed in thought. “The line of inheritance typically is through the male line?” 

Tim nodded in agreement. “Yes, unless there is no male heir. Then it falls to the eldest eligible female. House Wayne comes to mind. Helena is the crown princess.” He wasn’t sure where Jason was going with this. 

“Your ties to the land come through your father then, right?” 

“I would assume so,” Tim said slowly. “The Drakes have ruled these lands for almost three centuries. Mother’s family is from the south.” 

Jason shifted and fixed his gaze on Tim. After weeks of seeing his human eyes, it was something of a relief to see the solid blue glow, broken only by the slit of his pupil. “I wonder if something’s happened to your father,” he finally said. “You’ve been feeling this way for what, almost ten days now? He’s bound to have some connection to the land, even if he’s not present. It _knows_.” 

Tim groaned and let go of Robin’s bridle, belatedly realizing he’d been holding it tightly as the dragon spoke. There was a certain amount of logic to what he said and his words painted a very clear picture for him, especially with his father’s ongoing illness. “Dammit, Jason. Now how the hell am I supposed to sleep tonight?” 

The dragon tapped the tip of Tim’s nose with a long, dark claw. “The same way you do every night, Tim. With me wrapped around you. I’ll make sure you get some rest. Something tells me tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.”

 


	7. What Dreams May Bring

That night, Tim dreamed. Right away, he recognized it as different. He’d had plenty of dreams of walking through a forest, but none felt quite as weighted as this. As purposeful.   
  
He walked trails he recognized for a time before those faded into new paths his feet never touched before. The forest around him changed subtly and before he knew it, summer changed into full autumn. Trees blazed in brilliant reds, oranges, and gold and a dry dusty scent filled the air.   
  
The path ended abruptly at the edge of a steep cliff. Before him lay a vast landscape of autumnal trees, almost as far as his eye could see. The sky was a brilliant blue and a slight breeze blew against his upturned face. In the distance, right on the edge of his sight, tall towers pierced the horizon. One of them, taller than the others, flashed gold in the sun. Something about it tickled his memory.  
  
Tim blinked and when he opened his eyes, he stood at the foot of one the towers. The stone appeared to be solid granite, creating a spire that was impossible to climb. Looking upwards, he spotted a balcony about halfway up the massive column. He walked around the base of the tower, looking for an entrance and not finding anything to break the smooth lines. It was as if the tower was carved out of a single block of stone. When he returned to the original spot he arrived at, he blinked again and found himself standing on the balcony.   
  
Turning around, Tim peered into the room, hesitant to learn what he’d been led here to see. After all, that had to be the purpose of the dream. If he remembered this when he woke up, he’d ask Jason if it was a side effect of the earth talent. It seemed useful enough, if somewhat menacing. Another thought occurred to him. If something hurt him in this kind of dream, would it reflect on his body in the waking world? Something else to ask Jason, especially since he wasn’t armed beyond the dagger in his boot.  
  
The room was dark so Tim walked in cautiously, alert for any signs of danger. Everything was still, reminding him of how Drake Manor felt at night when he’d come stumbling upstairs to sleep in his bed rather than the study he’d claimed as his office. There was a dreamlike quality to the stillness, but as Tim made his way further into the room, the atmosphere changed. Rather than being a walker in his own dream, he got the distinct impression this dream belonged to someone else. Yes, dreams and dreamwalking was at the top of his list of questions for Jason when he woke up.

His eyes adjusted to the twilight of the room and he made out a large canopied bed against the far wall with its curtains closed. He prayed he wasn’t going to see what he suspected he would. Damn Jason for planting the thought in his head in the first place.   
  
There was a figure laying in repose on top of the covers. Tim brushed aside the flimsy curtains and saw not only his father, but also his mother resting beside him. Both were fully dressed in what he recognized as their travel clothes, but his father’s hand rested on the hilt of a sword he rarely took up anymore. There was movement on the bed and Tim gasped, taking a step back.   
  
His mother opened her eyes at the sudden movement and sat up, her pale blue eyes locking on to his own matching pair. “How curious,” she breathed, tilting her head to the side slightly to gaze at him, as though he’d finally done something interesting. “Since when do you dreamwalk, my son? And into warded dreams such as my own without my knowledge?”  
  
“This is the first time I’m aware of,” Tim replied. He didn’t come closer even when Janet beckoned him to. Something was very wrong here. “How do you know what I’m doing?”  
  
“Because it’s something I do on occasion. It allows me to check up on things. People. I haven’t been able to find your dreams for quite some time, Timothy.” Janet gestured for him again. “It’s caused me some concern that you are blocked from my sight. What have you been up to on your quest?”  
  
Tim swallowed hard, but stood his ground. “I’ve learned recently that I have an affinity for the earth. Our lands in particular speak to me. Would that have something to do with it?”  
  
“Do they now?” Janet asked and leaned over her husband to stare intently at him rather than answering his question. “Perhaps you’re not as much of a disappointment as I thought. What are they telling you?”  
  
Every hair on Tim’s neck, every survival instinct he had, was screaming at him to get the hell out of this room. “What’s happened to Father?” he asked instead. This was his mother, not some evil creature.   
  
“Nothing beyond the usual, my darling,” Janet soothed. “He had another fit not long after we arrived in Gotham, that’s all.”   
  
Tim bit his tongue, biting back the instinctive retort that of course Father had another fit. The stress he was under had to be immense. But Mother didn’t know he was back and he knew without a single doubt that he wanted to keep it that way. For now. “He’s been having more episodes of late.”  
  
“Your father is a strong man but he is growing older. It’s bound to happen more frequently.” Janet brushed a hand gently over Jack’s sleeping form, her expression fond. The man had not stirred once since Tim pulled back the curtain. She turned her attention back on him. “What is the land telling you, Timothy?”  
  
It was growing harder to speak. “That I’m needed.”   
  
Janet shook her head. “You are not needed here, my son. I will care for your father, as I always have. All you need to do is kill a dragon.”  
  
Tim’s eyes narrowed as he struggled against some unseen force that now seemed to be tugging him away. It dawned on him that he must be waking up. No. Not yet. “Why do I need to kill a dragon, Mother? What good will it do for any of us?” He’d asked these questions before leaving but Janet never provided a satisfactory response beyond that of honor and duty.  
  
His mother’s gaze sharpened even as she faded away, fog clouding over Tim’s vision. She looked...hungry. Her voice echoed through the nothingness. “Because I need its blood, it's very life energy. If I don’t, then Grandfather will kill me.”   
  
Tim lurched up in bed, sucking in rapid gasps of air as though he’d held his breath too long under water. Next to him, Jason was already wide awake and growling quietly.   
  
“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, glaring around the room as if something was about to attack them. “You stopped breathing.”  
  
Oh. That would explain a lot. Tim heaved another deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. “I dreamt. I saw. My mother,” he forced out between gasps.   
  
Jason rubbed a hand soothingly over the bare skin of Tim’s back. “Slow down. Relearn how to breathe first.”  
  
Tim shook his head. He needed to get this out before he forgot, before the dream faded. “There was a tower. Father and Mother were asleep in a room about halfway up,” he said quickly. “She...she woke up. Talked to me like I was really there. She said...she said I need to kill a dragon because she needs its blood and life energy or else she’ll be killed.” He turned wide eyes at his draconian lover. “What does that mean?”  
  
Beside him, Jason grew very still. The only sign he was even awake was the darkening of his glowing blue eyes and the smoke curling out from his nostrils. But unlike the passion Tim knew could get him to do that, this was something else.  
  
Anger. Rage.   
  
Instinct had him moving away from the dragon, but a taloned hand reached out and grabbed ahold of his knee. “Tell me everything you remember,” Jason ordered fiercely. “And when you’re done, I want to hear just what kind of family your mother claims to be from.”  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
They spoke for the remainder of the night. Tim wracked his memory for any little bit of information that would help explain why his mother needed dragon’s blood. But there was nothing. All his memories were of the shrew and occasional harpy that was Janet Drake.   
  
“I’ve never met any of my relatives from her side of the family,” Tim explained. He and Jason had moved from the bed to the chairs before the fireplace. Or rather, he had, while the dragon paced before the darkened hearth. “They live far away and are also few in number, just like Father’s family. He had one brother, but he died of a fever before I was born.”  
  
“Did your father ever meet his in-laws?” Jason asked, pausing momentarily to glance down at him.   
  
Tim shrugged and shook his head. “It was before my time. I’ve never met my maternal grandmother but I get occasional letters from her.” Strange letters, but letters nonetheless. She always asked when he was getting married.

He hated this. What was he being dragged into and what did it have to do with Jason? Whatever it was, he needed to protect him, at whatever cost.

“Are you sure they’re from her?” Jason probed, coming to a stop before Tim’s chair. “It’s not difficult to disguise one’s handwriting.”  
  
“I don’t know, okay?” Tim stormed up from the chair to yell as quietly as he could. His room was in the family wing of the house so he didn’t want to wake Kori or Mar’i by speaking too loudly. “If any of this made even one iota of sense, I’d tell you. You know as well as I do that my parents lost my loyalty the moment they sent me out on this hair-brained quest.”  
  
Jason shook his head slowly. “Not  _them_. Her. Even Lady Kori’s story supports the theory this was all orchestrated by your mother.”   
  
“Fine. Her. Mother.” Tim raked a hand through his tousled hair. “Gods above, what is she doing?”  
  
“I think the better question to ask is  _what_  is she.” Jason leaned against the mantle, staring down into the empty hearth. It was too warm to light a fire but with a flick of his wrist, blue magelights danced in the grate. “Not many noble-born humans can dreamwalk, unless they’ve been dabbling in things they shouldn’t be. Nor do they need dragon’s blood.”  
  
Tim settled back into his chair and hugged his knees to his chest. It was a childish gesture but he wasn’t feeling very adult at the moment. “I suppose you have ideas about that.”   
  
“A few,” Jason allowed. “But at the moment, I’m more concerned about you.”  
  
Tim raised his head. “Me?”  
  
“Yes, you.” Jason shifted his gaze to him. “You’re the one your mama sent on this little quest, spouting off things like duty and honor and the glory it would bring to your family’s name. But from the moment we met, you never once struck me as the type of human who valued glory all that much. Duty and honor? Yeah, in spades.”

“What’s your point?” Tim prodded.

Jason huffed and blew smoke in his direction. “My point is, how much of what you’ve done since you left home has been of your own free will? Compulsions can be subtle things.”  
  
His outraged shout was swallowed down fast and hard. Tim gripped his knees tightly as he pondered the dragon’s accusation. “I...Gods, I don’t know. Is that possible? I argue with Mother all the time. If she could control me, wouldn’t she have done so?”  
  
Jason shrugged, the muscles of his broad shoulders rippling under the flickering of his magelights. “It would make for peace and harmony in your house.”  
  
Tim snorted. “My house is not harmonious, not when all three of us are in residence at the same time.”  
  
“Then perhaps it’s your father she’s got ensnared. It would explain his fits.”  
  
It was hard to hear this kind of talk. Tim had never thought of his parents as anything other than frivolous and errant. Was it purposeful though? Did his mother take these trips with his father to hide some behavior or activity she couldn’t disguise at home? What exactly was going on? He sighed in frustration. “I don’t think she’s controlling or influencing me. Yes, she was the one who suggested I go west on my quest, but I did all the legwork to find you. And in my dream, she didn’t know we’d met. If anything, she sounded put out that she hasn’t been able to check on me. Said I was blocked from her sight.”  
  
Jason growled and shoved away from the fireplace to resume his pacing. “She wouldn’t have been able to find you while you were in my cave. My wards block all but the most persistent of scryers. On the road though...I warded you when we were at the  _Everyman_ , right before you left to buy the horses.”  
  
The kiss...Tim remembered the intensity of it. “It was right after I made that comment about being part of your hoard. That’s when you did it.”   
  
“Yes.” Jason continued stalking around the room. “It’s the same ward I use on the cave.”  
  
“So wouldn’t that negate any possible influence she may have had over me?” Tim desperately wanted it to be true. His entire relationship with Jason was in jeopardy now, all because he couldn’t say with absolute certainty that he wasn’t being coerced.   
  
“Ideally, yes,” Jason agreed. He spared a glance at him. “But I can’t help but wonder if this is all some elaborate trap and I’m the prize?”  
  
Tim was already shaking his head. “No. No, I can’t...I refuse to be part of this. Jason, you’ve got to leave here. Go home, move your hoard. Gods, just get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you!” He tucked his face into his knees, not wanting to see the loathing and disgust Jason must be feeling right now. All of this was his fault and he’d dragged a completely innocent party into his mess of a family. What was his mother up to? She’d dragged him along this path for her own selfish reasons, never once considering the repercussions it could have for him or the duchy if the sole heir disappeared.

Did she even care about their home at all? She was all about bloodlines and worthy heirs, so how did she expect their line to continue if he died on his quest?

An old memory resurfaced, of his mother’s extreme disappointment when Tim didn’t test positively for the spark. He’d been put through the test multiple times before he was even ten years old. If it was going to manifest, it would have by then. Her words to his father echoed in his memory.

_“His bloodline for the spark is impeccable. Do you know how long it took me to make sure all the conditions were right to even conceive him? What a waste of effort.”_

It did not make sense then and it still didn’t now. But it was important and Tim focused on that rather than on Jason leaving him. What did she mean by the right conditions? There were too many questions and he needed answers. He huffed a choked laugh. This was the story of his life. Perhaps he should make it his personal motto. _Too many questions._

A clawed hand started combing through Tim’s messy hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Tim. Not yet.”  

Tim raised his head to find Jason standing before him with none of the disgust he’d imagined he would find. “Why? You can’t stay here. Not with the slightest chance that Mother may kill you herself or force me to do it against my will.” 

The fingers tightened and pulled at his hair. “I said once before that your mother was an ant. Now she’s a horsefly and slightly more annoying. You are still my treasure, Tim. And I protect what’s mine.” 

A sharp burst of laughter erupted before Tim could stop it, but once it did, he let it ride because a bit of levity was sorely needed right now. How under the sun could Jason still want him as part of his hoard now? He was nothing but trouble.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jason said and tapped Tim’s nose. “So stop it. This may not be exactly what I signed up for anymore, but in all honesty, it’s a hell of a lot more interesting now. I’ve told you what happens when I get bored.”

“You do stupid shit,” Tim replied, shaking his head at the words. They were Jason’s, not his.

“Exactly.” Jason let go and resumed his place by the hearth, leaning against the mantelpiece. “Now, tell me what you know of your mother’s family.”

Tim nibbled absently at his lip as he thought. “There’s not much to share. They hale from far to the south. Father met Mother on his many journeys while serving under King Thomas, Bruce’s father.”

“I thought you said it was an arranged marriage?”

“It was. The Raatkos wanted a connection to Gotham and have money. The Drakes had titles and land, but not a lot of money. Father and Mother got on well enough, so their families made it happen.”

Jason held up a hand, which was about as polite as he got when interrupting someone. “Did you say Raatko?”

“Yes. Mother’s name was Janet Raatko before her marriage. My grandmother is Nyssa Raatko. I believe she has a sister too, but I can’t remember her name.” Tim watched as Jason’s pacing resumed, this time more furious than before. The smoke grew to be too thick, so he retreated to the window and pushed them open even wider so he could breathe. “Care to share why this is so important?” he finally asked.

Dark blue eyes gleamed in the darkness as the dragon turned his attention back on him. “Are you honestly telling me you have no idea who your grandmother really is? Who _your mother_ is?”

Tim sighed and shook his head. This wasn’t good. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me. I assume from your reaction that it’s bad and my entire life is about to get flipped upside down again.”

Jason snorted and a large puff of smoke blew from his nose. He was worse than a blocked chimney tonight. “Nyssa Raatko is the eldest daughter of Ra’s al Ghul.”

That was…anticlimactic. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

If looks could kill, Tim was fairly certain he’d be a dead man from the way Jason was glaring at him. “Do you know what a blood mage is?”

He hadn’t heard of blood mages before, but Tim suspected he knew them by another name. “I’ve heard stories about a death mage. Far to the south, there’s a land that is brown and barren, naught but sand because the ruler was so obsessed with eternal life that he drained the lands dry of all the resources that sustained them.”

Jason sighed and crossed his tattooed arms over his chest as he prepared what would undoubtedly be a lecture. At least he wasn’t pacing anymore. “A white mage uses the energy the world around them provides for their magics. A blood mage kills living beings to gather that energy. Or, as I bet your mom doing with your dad, sucks them dry.”

Tim blinked in surprise. “You think Mother is a blood mage? What does this have to with this Ra’s character?” His mind balked at the implications of what he was hearing.

“You know what I’m getting at,” Jason snapped. “Ra’s fucking al Ghul is your great-grandfather.”

Yup, that’s what Tim didn’t want to believe was even possible. He sat heavily in the window seat and buried his face in his hands. This night was turning into an absolute nightmare. But rather than wallow in despair, Tim raised his head to return Jason’s glare with a frosty one of his own. “I’m going to repeat what I said earlier. You need to leave. I refuse to let you get drawn into this any further.”

“Oh yeah? And just what are you gonna do to stop your mom? You’re not a mage, Tim. You’ve got wild talents, yes, but you’re completely untrained. You need my help.”

“Not at the cost of your life!” Tim roared and stalked toward the dragon. He was just as capable as getting into someone’s face as Jason was. “I’ll figure something out. Kori’s best friend is a mage, I’m sure she would put me on the right path.”

But it was clear Jason wasn’t backing down either. “I already said I would help you, Tim! This changes nothing.”

“No, this changes everything!” Tim disagreed vehemently and resisted the urge to point his finger in Jason’s face. At the rate they were going, he’d probably get it bitten. “You just said I’m from a family blood mages! I may not have the spark, but that doesn’t mean they can’t use me in some way to get at you. I think…” he trailed off, thinking furiously. Was that possible, just by being the son of a blood mage?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “See? This is why you need me. You don’t know shit.”

It was growing harder not to throw a punch at the dragon. “No, I don’t. I also don’t want to believe that any of this is true because it just fucks up _everything_. Not only am I losing you, but how can I protect my home, my people, from someone like this?”

“I believe Lady Kori said it rather nicely earlier.” Jason grabbed hold of Tim’s chin and forced him to look at him. “You’ve got a fire breathing dragon to watch your back. A fire breathing dragon who also happens to be a white mage of some considerable talent. _I can help you_. You’re not going to lose me; I am just as connected to you now as you are to me.”

The intensity of Jason’s gaze grew heavier and Tim felt as though he was crumbling under the pressure. He didn’t want to think anymore because he knew the dragon was right (in more ways than one). He didn’t have a lot of options and even if Kori’s friend did help, she was only human. Even in this form, Jason was stronger and more than capable of defending himself. What would he be like in his true form?

“Fine,” Tim finally agreed and swatted Jason’s hand away. He rubbed at his eyes, the exhaustion, stress, and smoke irritation catching up to him. “Tell me about Ra’s.”

Jason smirked as he took a seat on the bed. He was clearly pleased with winning their argument. “Ra’s al Ghul was a blood mage while he was alive. Now he’s what you’d call a necromancer, an undead one at that. The White Council has been trying to take him out for the better part of two hundred years, but all they can do is keep him contained. Rumor has it that he’s been trying to build an army. An undead bastard like him can raise a lot zombies if he has the right power source.”

“Like the blood of a dragon.” Tim remembered the last part of what his mother said before he woke up. “She said Grandfather would kill her if she didn’t get your blood. That has to be _her_ grandfather she meant.” Ra’s. An undead blood mage was his great-grandfather. This was going to take some adjusting to.

“Probably. Although I think the sacrifice they need right now is just to get the old prick out of Nanda Parbat. There’s some powerful magic keeping his ass there and it would take quite the jolt to break it.”

“Which is why she wants me to kill a dragon. You live longer than humans or even elves, so the energy must be significant,” Tim stated. From a logical perspective, it made sense. “But wouldn’t she have to be there?” 

“Not unless you’re a conduit. You’ve got one wild talent, why not another?” Jason rose from the bed to approach him and rested a hand over Tim’s forehead. “Hang on a second. This is gonna feel funny.”

“Probably not as bad as the itch I’ve had in my brain for the last couple weeks. When you’re in there, scratch that for me, would you please?” 

Jason chuckled as his eyes flared momentarily, going from dark to light and then back to his normal (stunning) blue. Tim felt a surge of warmth flow through him, followed by a decided chill as the heat left him. 

“There. Couldn’t help your itch though.” Jason kissed the crown of Tim’s head. “But if you have another one you need scratched, let me know. I’m sure I can reach that one for you.”

His grin and waggling eyebrows made certain Tim knew just what kind of itch he meant too. Why he even wanted to _touch_ him now was surprising. He felt…violated by these revelations. “So? Am I a conduit?” 

“Yeah,” Jason replied. “A powerful one too. No wonder your mother sent you rather than risking her own skin.” He pulled Tim into his arms and breathed in the scent of his hair, his skin. Tim tried to relax and release the tension he could feel thrumming through his body, but he was still too keyed up. Strong fingers started kneading his back. “It’s gonna be okay,” the dragon said, trying to soothe him. “You can’t help who your family is. That doesn’t mean I like you any less.”

“You should.”

“Nah. I’ve read that most people don’t get along with their mother-in-laws; most brides call them witches. It’s rare they turn out to be an actual witch.”

It was funnier than it had any right to be and Tim snorted into the side of Jason’s neck. “You still want to marry me, even all this crap? If anything, you’ve got the perfect out on that.”

“I do,” Jason hummed into his hair. “How else will I be able to keep you when this is all over? You’re my treasure, Tim. And a dragon never gives up its treasure without a fight.”

 


	8. Fires and Homecomings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back! Yay!

The following morning, Tim was hard pressed to say how much sleep he’d gotten the night before. He and Jason stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning discussing matters, finally getting to the point where they were running around in circles trying to figure out what his mother, and by extension her family, was up to. Nothing could be learned until they reached Bristol, perhaps even Gotham City to interrogate Janet Drake. 

One thing they did come to an agreement on was dreamwalking. As helpful as Tim’s little wandering in the dream world was, he didn’t want it to happen again, not and have his mother find out about it. She knew the rules, he didn’t. Jason modified the ward on him but wasn’t sure if it would work since he suspected it was Tim’s earth talent that sent him there in the first place. 

There was a book back in his cave on the subject, but if Tim wanted to have any control over this, he’d need a teacher. “I wish I could help, but the dreaming isn’t a particularly strong talent of mine. I can ward my own dreams, but that’s about all.”

Tim shrugged off the dragon’s concern. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

At breakfast in the informal family dining room, Kori called Tim out on his lack of sleep. “I heard shouting from your room last night,” she said bluntly, pointedly stabbing a sausage and eyeing Jason at the same time. “And not the fun kind.” 

Mar’i snickered. She apparently already knew what the fun kind of shouting was. Tim did not envy Dick at all when the suitors came calling. Nope. “Why were you fighting?” she asked, turning those luminous green eyes on Jason. “I thought you and Uncle Tim are supposed to get married.”

Jason leaned across the table to bop the child on her nose. She made a face while he went back to his cup of tea. “We are. Doesn’t mean we can’t argue about things we disagree on.”

Kori brushed back her long hair from her face and tucked the errant strand behind her ear. This early in the day, it was still unbound. “What were you arguing about?”

This wasn’t exactly the time or place Tim wanted to have this conversation with Kori, but he supposed it wasn’t going to get any better. “We figured out that my mother is related to an undead blood mage.”

“Oh,” Kori replied and sipped her tea. “You just realized this?”

Now Jason was laughing as Tim stared incredulously at the woman seated at the head of the table. “What do you mean,  _just realized?_ ”

Kori laughed, which Tim didn’t much appreciate, considering the situation. “Of course I know who your mother’s family is, Tim. Tamaran was destroyed because of what Ra’s al Ghul did to his own lands. We were a neighboring country.” Her normally open expression hardened. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on your mother ever since we met, but she never once gave me any indication she practiced her family’s ways. Aside from being self-centered and a bit paranoid, that is.”

Tim wasn’t sure how to process the news. All his life, he thought he was normal, or as normal as the son of a lord could be. Life was orderly, and somewhat boring. How did that old saying go? Be careful what you wish for? Then again, he didn’t wish for any of this... “Why didn’t you say something when I left on my quest then?” Kori could have put a stop to this entire debacle if she’d only spoken up. 

The woman set aside her porcelain tea cup. “Because I knew you had to leave, that if you didn’t, something horrible would happen.”

Jason’s attention was all on Kori, his bright eyes assessing her in a new light. “You have the sight?” he asked after a moment.

“Sort of,” Kori admitted with a shrug. “I think it’s better called insight than anything else. Visions occasionally haunt my dreams, but they’re so ephemeral that I can’t make sense of them. Going back to Tim though, when he arrived here at the start of his journey, I knew it was one he had to go on, no matter how much Dick protested. That it was vitally important he did.” She grinned brightly at Jason. “And look who he came back with.”

Tim remembered Kori’s quiet acceptance of his quest while Dick’s shouts could have woken the dead. Still, the information she had withheld for years was concerning. “I still don’t understand why you never spoke up about Mother and her family.”

“She is not her grandfather, so I wished to give her the benefit of the doubt,” Kori replied, shifting her gaze back onto him. “After I married Dick, I spoke with King Bruce’s court mage about Janet and her parentage. The Lady Zatanna already knew, as does the King.”

Tim tried hard to resist the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

“If it helps, Dick doesn’t.”

It did. A little. “I take it my being born without the spark helped keep matters as they are?” Tim’s mind raced as he thought it out. A talentless son of a mage was not a valuable commodity, even if, as he now suspected, his father was specifically chosen for his bloodline rather than his lands. There were four mages in Jack’s family over the last couple hundred years, one of which was Tim’s own grandfather, who died before his son even married.

Small wonder Mother was so furious when he didn’t test positive for the spark. Lucky for him though, because Tim was now certain his upbringing would have been  _much_  different if he had. 

“It did,” Kori stated. “Although I’m curious to see how things play out now that your wild talents are awakening.”

“Wild talents?” Mar’i asked. She’d been sitting quietly eating her breakfast the entire time, watching and listening intently. It was easy to overlook her sometimes.

“Those are what our gifts are, sweetie,” Kori explained. “Abilities that don’t quite fall into the normal categories of magic. Sometimes they can be trained and made useful, but others appear at will with no rhyme or reason behind it.”

Mar’i’s little black head bobbed up and down, her lips pursed as she thought it over. “Aren’t dragons said to be creatures of wild magic?”

Jason perked up. “Where did you hear that, child?”

“My aunt Komand’r,” Mar’i replied excitedly. “She travels far and wide and has the best stories when she comes to visit.”

Tim took the opportunity to drink his coffee while the little girl chattered about her aunt. He’d met Komand’r once and that was enough for him. The black-haired woman could not be more different from her younger sister if she tried. She was an adventurer and a mercenary, depending on the amount of coin in her purse at any given time. While Tim didn’t entirely approve of the woman, he would give her credit for never trying to leech off her only living relatives either. 

Jason listened to Mar’i, asking her questions on occasion. Her answers often garnered approving nods from Kori. The entire discussion was above Tim’s head as it all revolved around magical theory, a topic he never realized Kori, and by extension Mar’i, was well-versed in. But as he sat there and listened, he supposed it made sense as Tamaraneans were so strongly linked with the fae, at least in their ruling family. Magic was a way of life for them. 

It was probably no accident that their country was destroyed by Ra’s al Ghul. Tim refused to think of the man as his great-grandfather. That wasn’t happening. Ever. Going back to his original train of thought, if the cataclysm that destroyed Tamaran could be linked back to Ra’s, then why did no one do anything about it? An entire country gone and no one batted an eye? The only reason Kori and Komand’r survived was because they attended an academy outside their borders. The lack of any action seemed hard to believe. Unless Ra’s was simply that powerful...

As always, he was coming up with questions that were hard to learn answers to. But in this case, Tim’s frustration with himself grew upon the discovery of such a massive gap in his education. His mother was the one in charge of his various tutors, so yet again, she was likely behind it. The world as he knew it was crumbling around him, revealing it to be much bigger than he’d ever dreamed of. It was kind of invigorating actually. And definitely exciting. Small wonder Jason was always so enthusiastic to teach him new things. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Uncle Tim,” Mar’i’s small voice brought Tim back to the present.

He blinked as three pairs of solid colored eyes gazed levelly at him. If he weren’t so used to them already, it would be disconcerting. “Just thinking,” he replied. “I realized I know nothing about what happened to your country, Kori. You always said it was a natural disaster, but that doesn’t sound like it’s anywhere near the truth.”

“That’s cuz it’s not,” Jason was the one to reply. “But it’s the story the White Council put out there to keep the masses from panicking.”

Kori’s displeased expression said exactly what she thought about that. “My sister and I petitioned the Council to let us raise an army and go to war with our destroyer, but we were denied. Many times. I eventually came north in hopes of finding allies amongst the countries here while my sister travels in search of something, _anything_ , that’s powerful enough to challenge Ra’s.”

“But you have a family now,” Tim tried to say but Kori cut him off sharply.

“I do. But that does not mean I’ve stopped currying favor in hopes that one day, the King will accede to my request. I know Bruce is a man of peace, but even he cannot deny the growing threat coming from the south.”

This was a side to his friend that Tim had never seen before. And, he suspected, Dick may not have either. His oldest friend had rather firm opinions about family and that involved keeping them safe at all costs.

Jason was shaking his head. “I never understood why the Council did that with Tamaran,” he said. “Then again, half the members are human, so they don’t exactly think long term.”

“They didn’t act because they were afraid,” Kori stated fiercely. Her hair was starting to drift around her face, driven by unseen air currents. It only did that when her emotions were about to get the best of her. If she didn’t rein them in, the ends would light on fire. “Still are afraid, in fact. Komand’r’s most recent petition last year again fell on deaf ears.”

“I know a couple members of the Council,” Jason said thoughtfully. He fiddled idly with his empty tea cup before pouring some more from the delicate teapot. It looked incredibly fragile in his large, taloned hand. “Perhaps once we know more, I can talk to them for you. See if we can find out why this keeps happening. Containing a monster like Ra’s isn’t going to do us any good if he manages to get the influx of power he needs to break free of Nanda Parbat.”

“I wonder if the knowledge that Ra’s is trying to have a dragon killed will help matters,” Tim spoke up, finally seeing a place where he could contribute to the conversation. “I assume that my being a conduit means he’ll somehow be able to leech all that energy through Mother if I were inclined to try and somehow succeed.”

 _“What?”_ Kori’s hair burst into flames as she abruptly stood, pushing back from her chair so hard it fell to the floor with a loud crash. “You are a _conduit?_ ”

For the first time ever, Tim felt an inkling of fear in front of the woman. She was a truly terrifying (and awe inspiring) sight. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I just learned this last night.”

“I figured it out,” Jason added. He sipped his tea calmly, but there was an air of watchfulness about him. “Right after I figured out who his great-granddaddy is. Lady Kori, I can assure you, I’ve already taken steps to negate any possible outside influence Tim may have when it comes to desiring my death. If I die anytime soon, it’ll be because I pissed him off enough to force him to do it.”

“Ja—son,” Tim groaned, pointedly elbowing the dragon in his side. “You’re not helping.”

“No, he’s not,” Kori replied. “I’ve never once seen any sign that your will has been subverted, Tim.” She tapped her face, just to the side of one vivid green eye. “I may not be a mage, but I can _see_ magic. That kind of twisting of the mind leaves a mark and Janet knows it. She wouldn’t dare try, not with how close you and Dick are. I’d know.”

One of the weights on Tim’s shoulders lifted at his friend’s words. “You have no idea how relieved that makes me. The last thing I want to do is kill Jason.”

“It’s something we all want to avoid,” Jason replied cheekily. “But I’m not the only dragon out there. I just happened to live closest.”

There was another bag of worms to ponder. “Do you think there are others out there who are on the same mission I was?” The thought sickened Tim.

“Who knows?” Kori commented. “For the moment, we can only worry about what’s in front of us.” The unseen wind blowing her hair about settled down, but each strand still snapped with fire. “But this may be what my sister and I have been waiting for. We must get you to Gotham to interrogate your mother, as well as find actual proof. And for that, we ride for Bristol. I have an urge to ransack the Duchess’s rooms.”

~*~*~*~

Under regular circumstances, it took the better part of a day to ride from Grayson House to Drake Manor, Tim’s ancestral home. They made it in six hours, which was only possible because the tired horses Tim and Jason rode in on were replaced with fresh ones from Kori’s stables. All three of the Graysons were avid riders and Kori was just as involved with their breeding and care as Dick. Even Mar’i rode well.

Tim was saddened to leave his faithful Robin behind but knew it was for the best and that she’d be in good hands.

Jason, on the other hand, did not get along well with his new horse. At all. Mar’i rode beside him as they rode, and Tim often heard her delighted laughter over the pounding of hooves. The dragon must have made some off-color comment to her, probably about eating said horse. Trailing along behind him on a lead was a new packhorse, laden down with Jason’s treasures.

Treasures that were no longer needed under the new circumstances they found themselves in. Their marriage contract was made under the assumption that Tim’s freedom could be bought with an ample dowry to appease his parents. Considering everything at stake now, this particular point was null and void. The way Tim saw it, his mother’s act of sending him to kill a dragon constituted as treason. Aiding and abetting a foreign power, especially one who had already destroyed two countries, was not an act King Bruce would look kindly on. This left Tim free to resume his responsibilities at home, perhaps even take on the title of Duke if his father’s health was as poor as he suspected.

He wanted to feel pity for his father, he really did, but Tim was fairly certain Jack had walked into this with his eyes wide open. What had the Raatkos offered him that made him marry their daughter and bring her north? There had to be more to it than simply begetting an heir who carried the spark. Money always played a part in matters like these, but the Drakes weren’t poor before Janet married into the family. They weren’t rich though either, so Tim added another mental note to his growing list to see if he could find the ledgers from around the time Mother joined the household.

Another laugh interrupted Tim’s thoughts, this time masculine. He glanced over his shoulder to see Jason grinning widely at whatever Mar’i said to him. The dragon caught his eye and winked. Tim let himself smile and returned his attention to the road.

But his thoughts were now focused on the one topic he’d been avoiding. Jason. What was he to do with him? The dragon’s interest in these matters was peripheral from what Tim could determine. He was here solely because of his marriage offer, made to give him the opportunity to learn and study more than he’d ever had the chance to before, all out from under his mother’s thumb. To do something with his life rather than squander it. However, the original reason behind the offer no longer had any bearing on the matter.

Jason was free to leave anytime he wished.

Tim had a feeling though that if he were to try and point this out, the dragon would roll his eyes and ignore him. He was part of a dragon’s hoard now, for reasons that only made sense to Jason. There was no escaping it. And if Tim were being honest with himself, escape was the furthest thing from his mind. His only desire was to keep Jason safe. Not a single drop of his blood would make its way into Ra’s al Ghul’s hands, not if he could help it.

Just as Jason protected his hoard, Tim would protect the dragon he loved.

He was pulled from his thoughts as they crested an all too familiar rise. Tim hauled back on the reins, stopping the horse so that he could take in a sight he honestly never expected to see again. Around him, the others stopped and let him have his moment.

In the distance, nestled in the juncture of three low hills, was Drake Manor. Unlike other country seats, the manor house sat separate from Bristol, further away from the riverside town that moved goods and provided transport for so many people. A crumbling keep rested on the hill closest to the river, a memorial of times long past when the duchy protected Gotham’s westernmost border. A watchtower still stood, a silent sentinel in the midafternoon sun. The manor itself was relatively new, having been built barely a century ago. There was more to it than the E-shaped house, with numerous outbuildings surrounding it. Tim would swear that he spent more time in those buildings growing up than he did in his home.

The urge to dismount welled up inside him and he was off his horse before he questioned it. Kori gave him an inquisitive look, but her eyes widened in understanding when Tim walked off the road towards the highest point on the rise. The itch that had persistently been bothering him for weeks quieted down somewhat, satisfied that he was finally where he belonged.

Tim was home.

~*~*~*~

Mrs. Mac, the housekeeper of Drake Manor, had some of the strongest arms he’s ever encountered, Tim decided. Easily on par with Dick’s, which was saying something as a hug from the man was not something one could escape from until he chose to let go. But the old housekeeper’s hug was a close second. Propriety be damned, Tim gave back as good as he got because this woman was more of a mother to him than Janet Drake ever was.

“Oh, my dear boy. You’re home,” Mrs. Mac cried into Tim’s shoulder. They stood in the courtyard in front of the manor. He’d barely had a chance to dismount before he was swept up again. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

The words brought back the tearful goodbye they privately shared a few months ago. Tim held her tighter. “I know,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think I’d be coming home either. But I’m here now and guess what? I didn’t kill a dragon at all. I brought him home with me instead.”

“You…what?” the old woman released Tim and took a step back, a fearful expression on her lined face.

“I brought home a dragon.” Tim gestured at Jason, who’d been standing quietly behind him since they arrived. His horns were hidden under his glamor once again, something Kori thought would be a good idea until the Manor staff grew used to him. Only the horns were hidden from view though; his solid sapphire blue eyes and dark claws were still there for the world to see. “Mrs. Mac, this is Jason.”

The dragon stepped forward and inclined his head graciously. “I promise, I won’t eat you.”

“You look nothing like a dragon. More like Lady Kori and Miss Mar’i.” The housekeeper planted a hand firmly across Tim’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish, my boy, but you have been on the road for quite some time…”

Kori stepped in, slapping Jason hard on the shoulder. “He’s a dragon, Mrs. Mac, make no mistake. They’re capable of some rather incredible magic, so don’t let this form fool you.”

“I’ve spent the better part of six weeks listening to him threaten to eat my horse,” Tim added. It didn’t help as Mrs. Mac’s eyes widened in alarm once again.

“Which I won’t do here,” Jason stated pointedly and mock glared at Tim. “I prefer a hunt when I finally get hungry. The cattle and herds are safe.”

“I’ll be sure to let the gamekeeper know,” Mrs. Mac said faintly.

“How about we all go inside and get cleaned up?” Tim asked, trying to get the old woman back on track. She always did better when presented with a task and true to form, the housekeeper nodded vigorously.

“Yes, please. This way. Oh, Master Tim, everyone will be so pleased to see that you’ve returned in one piece.” She turned and bustled inside, her voice rising as she called out orders. Mar’i darted inside after her in a quest of her own for treats.

Kori chuckled faintly and shared a smile with Tim. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this flustered before.”

“Must be my stunning good looks.” Jason hefted his bags and tossed one to Tim. “I want a place where I can hide this with at least some expectation that it won’t be found. I have a feeling we’re not staying long.”

Tim knew by the sharp angles it was a book bag. “I can think of a few places, but for now, my workroom will do. No one ever goes in there.”

Rather than leading Jason into the main house, which Kori entered in search of her daughter to relieve her of the extra sweets, Tim took him on a roundabout path away from the central courtyard and towards the north wing of the building. Their remaining bags were left for the footmen. Personally, Tim would die a happy man if he never had to see his chainmail ever again.

News of his return spread like wildfire and people stopped them to welcome Tim home. He didn’t mind; these were men and women who made this place what it was.

After the fifth time they were interrupted, Jason spoke up. “You really know everyone around here, don’t you?” He sounded impressed.

“Of course, I do.” Tim glanced over at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

The dragon rumbled in amusement. “You’re much more than the simple knight you present yourself to be.”

“But I am a knight…”

“And a diplomat, an advisor to the king, the best friend of a neighboring prince, and the son of a duke.” Jason ticked each item off, his enjoyment over Tim’s embarrassment growing. “I wonder what else will come spilling out of your little bag of tricks.”

“I don’t have any tricks,” Tim tried to protest, but Jason just laughed at him.

“I seem to remember a certain one you do with your tongue…” Tim dropped his bag and slapped a hand over Jason’s mouth, ears burning as he hoped there wasn’t anyone around to hear that. They didn’t need to know exactly what their duke’s son got up to in the bedroom. Not that there had been a lot of time in an actual bedroom, considering how many weeks they’d been on the road, but the sentiment held.

“Fine, you win. Just shut up and follow me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aiming for updating this story every two weeks now rather than every week. I have no end in sight for this quite yet, but wow, have I been busy with all the plotting.


	9. A Twofold Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sir Tim now has a beta reader. Thank you, denelian!
> 
> Also, now that the main plot is coming together, I am starting to make some minor edits in previous chapters so that it flows better. Nothing big has changed at all.

The following morning, Tim awoke slowly, luxuriating in the cool sheets of his bed.  _His_  bed. He never considered himself a hedonist, but this was one item he didn’t mind spoiling himself with. 

Jason seemed to agree. Mrs. Mac had put together a room for the dragon outside the family wing, but it had taken him less than five minutes to pack everything and haul it down the hall and up a flight of stairs to drop it all in Tim’s room. He then proceeded to flop down on the bed next to Tim and announce that there was no way in hell he was sleeping anywhere other than here. 

Tim found it funny that Jason dragged the dark green coverlet with him from the guestroom too. It was soft and smooth to the touch, which, considering the fabrics that made up Jason’s bed back in his lair, seemed to be a prerequisite for becoming part of his bedding. The cave was a long distance away, so he supposed it made sense that the dragon start building his little nest in what will be his home for the next few decades. 

But those were thoughts from last night and Tim buried his face in his pillow, trying to ignore the light beckoning from the other side of the heavy curtains. Behind him, Jason pressed in closer, an arm already snug over Tim’s bare waist. Sleeping clothes were something the dragon completely eschewed and he did his best to try and convince Tim otherwise. He pouted heavily the previous two nights when Tim pulled on the loose sleep pants, muttering about human sensibilities. 

“It’s too early to wake up,” Jason mumbled, his breath tickling the hair on Tim’s neck.

“I know,” Tim agreed. “But Kori won’t wait for us forever.” Their plan for the day was to go through his mother’s private quarters, searching for anything that might give them a clue for what she, and by extension Ra’s, was up to. It had been tempting to start the evening before, but Tim declared he needed some rest first. Dick may have left Kori in charge in his absence, but Tim was lord here, rare as it was for him to put his foot down.

There was also a vague feeling of unease in going through his mother’s rooms. Rarely had he ever been invited in.

Jason’s fingers trailed along the edge of Tim’s sleep pants. “I really wish you wouldn’t wear these. They get in the way.”

Tim smiled, but pointedly kept his face turned into his pillow. “Think of them as gift-wrapping.”

The dragon purred in delight and his fingers dipped lower over the light fabric. “That does make them slightly more tolerable.” He carefully grasped Tim’s already hard length and gave him a few gentle strokes, pressing up behind him to share his own burgeoning interest. 

Tim rocked his hips, thrusting lightly against Jason’s hand and settling back against the dragon’s hard body. They hadn’t had any time to themselves for this over the last few days, not since that night by the stream on the border of his lands. Considering what they’ve learned since then, the fact that Jason wanted anything to do with him still surprised him. But as the dragon was so fond of saying, he protected his treasures. Tim sincerely doubted he did this with any other part of his hoard. 

“You’re lost in your head,” Jason breathed, thrusting over the soft fabric between Tim’s thighs. He apparently was planning to ruin the sleep trousers rather than remove them. “Come out and play, Tim.”

Yes. Thinking was overrated right now. Tim shifted and shoved his pants down over his hips. He needed skin right now, all of what Jason had to offer. The dragon took the hint and finished tugging them down, losing them somewhere at the end of the bed as he yanked them off. Tim rolled onto his back and Jason was suddenly right there, arms braced on either side of his head, staring down at him.

His glamor was completely gone. Tim reached up and stroked the base of a twisted horn, rubbing the sensitive skin. Jason closed his eyes and keened, losing himself in the touch he craved and so rarely received. His hips snapped forward and pressed hard against Tim. “Fuck, do that again,” he growled. 

Tim aimed to please and started massaging the base of the other horn at the same time. It reminded him of how a dog curled up in pleasure at having their ears scratched, but this was no dog rutting against him. If they’d taken a little time to better prepare, it would be Jason pressing inside of Tim, driving him insane just as he was doing to Jason. Alas, foresight didn’t seem to occur to either of them this morning, so Tim took what he was given and thrust hard against the press of Jason’s body. He could make this work, especially now that Jason lowered his head enough so Tim could steal a kiss. 

One kiss became two. Two became three. The third became a mash of lips and tongue that battled for victory and submission. Neither man gave quarter, which drove them to further heights as they lost themselves in each other.

It wasn’t long before they both reached their peaks, gasping for air. 

Jason collapsed next to Tim, smoke escaping from his heaving lungs as he tried to bring himself back under control. “Damn, and here I thought I was seducing you.”

Tim grinned and propped himself up on his elbow to stare down at the dragon. “I think it works both ways.”

“Care to test that theory, Sir Knight?” Jason winked at him and tried to draw Tim down for another kiss. “I’m game if you are.”

A knock at the chamber door caused Tim to jerk back. “Are you two done yet?” Kori called out. “We need to get started!”

Jason growled fiercely, smoke pouring out harder than before. He did not like being interrupted, not in the slightest, but Tim shushed him. “Later,” he promised. “You can lay me out right here and try to convince me that walking is overrated.”

“It is overrated,” the dragon said darkly. “Especially since you could be bouncing around on my dick.”

“You look prettier on mine.” Tim winked and rolled away, barely escaping the reach of Jason’s arms as he tried to haul him back. “We’ll be out in a few minutes, Kori,” he said in a louder voice. 

It was closer to ten minutes by the time they emerged, Jason’s partial glamor back in place. Kori had disappeared, so they made their way downstairs to the family dining room to find her waiting there. Mar’i was nowhere to be seen. She grinned as Tim picked up a plate and made his way to the sideboard to get something to eat. He was pleased to see all of his favorites, which was no doubt Mrs. Mac’s doing. 

Surprisingly, Jason picked up a plate as well and started loading it with slices of ham and crispy bacon. Both Tim and Kori stared incredulously at him. “I didn’t wear you out that much,” Tim declared as he filled his plate with kedgeree and bacon. There was some fresh fruit that he snagged a few pieces of as well. 

Jason snorted, trying to suppress his laugh but just blew smoke instead. “No, you didn’t. But the last few days have been rough on me too. A chance to hunt wouldn’t be a bad idea here soon.”

“Noted,” Tim said and took a seat at the table. The prospect excited him because perhaps this time he could finally see Jason in his true form.

“You’ll probably need to shift on the backside of one of the hills,” Kori commented as she sipped her tea. “They’re steep enough no one really goes up there, aside from Tim when he wants to risk breaking his neck in the old tower.”

The three of them chatted as Tim and Jason ate, the dragon wanting to know more about the tower, but also the house and town nearby. It was more interest than he’d shown previously.

After breakfast, Tim instructed the Manor staff to stay away from his parent’s rooms while the three of them searched. Everyone knew by this time that Lord and Lady Drake had been arrested for attempted murder, but what confused people was why they were doing this since Tim was so very much alive. 

“There are other forces at work here,” Tim explained to Mrs. Mac as they walked upstairs. “Something Father may have inadvertently gotten himself involved in.” He didn’t say anything in defense of his mother, which the old housekeeper picked up on right away.

“I’ll make sure you’re all left alone,” she promised, nodding solemnly. “And I’ll find something to keep Miss Mar’i occupied.”

The rooms belonging to Tim’s parents were further down the hall from his own. Growing up, Tim never minded the distance, but now he wondered if it had been a deliberate choice. 

They approached the door to Janet’s private rooms. Jason and Kori both inspected it closely but shook their heads when Tim asked if anything would prevent him from entering. “The chambermaids come in here often,” he explained, taking hold of the door handle. 

“True, but some wards can be keyed to blood or even intent,” Kori stated, and Jason nodded in agreement.

Tim shrugged, not feeling all that concerned. While he hadn’t been in his mother’s rooms often, he wasn’t a complete stranger to them. The well-appointed sitting room appeared as it always had, pale ivory colors offset by bursts of bright red and gold. The rich carpet was thickly plush, a darker shade of red with ivory scrollwork woven within. 

“Not exactly the colors I’d associate with a lady’s private chambers,” Jason commented, looking around closely. 

“And just how many highborn lady’s chambers have you frequented?” Kori asked teasingly before Tim could. “I prefer bold colors myself, but I’ve noticed the further north I go, the lighter the palette seems to become.”

“I’m not sure about women, but I know in Kandor that King Kal and Prince Kon prefer rich colors, particularly blue and red,” Tim added. They were the colors of the House of El, so it made sense. Kon actually favored black and red when given the choice.

The comment made Jason growl slightly, but he looked away before Tim could question him about it. 

Kori and Jason prowled around the room, paying particularly close attention to the bookcase and the curio cabinet full of little trinkets from Janet’s travels. Tim had no idea what he should even be looking for and hung back, instead turning over his last memory of being in this room and comparing it against the present. He’d had a rather heated argument with his mother in here before he left, so he’d been somewhat distracted.

Nothing appeared out of place. He never thought of the baubles in the curio cabinet as anything more than carved stones or pretty jeweled glass, but now he wondered what else they could be.

His gaze landed on a small painting on the wall. He’d seen it many times before and, for no particular reason he could discern, disliked it immensely. It was a picture of a golden tower set against a bed of pure white sand and an azure sky. As a child, he’d once been told to stand in front of it and gaze into its depths, telling his mother each new thing he saw. Whatever it was he was supposed to see never crossed his lips, so Janet sent him away, not even hiding her disappointment.

He also remembered where he’d seen it recently. It was one of the towers in his dream.

“Jason,” Tim called out to the dragon. “Can there be anything magical about paintings?”

“Sure,” Jason replied, looking up from the bookcase. Of course, he gravitated there first. “It depends on what the artist creates, in conjunction with a mage…” he trailed off as he caught sight of where Tim’s attention was. His eyes widened and he lunged forward, grabbing an afghan from the back of the settee and holding it out in front of him to shield his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled vehemently, approaching the painting with the blanket held out before him. 

“What is it?” Kori asked, approaching cautiously.

Jason shushed her and started muttering something under his breath. The frame around the picture flared with a bright light before cracking and the painted canvas fell to the floor, hiding the golden tower. Tim could have sworn he heard a hiss as Jason tossed the blanket over it. 

“That was a portal,” he announced firmly.

“A what?” Tim asked, not completely understanding the term in the way the dragon apparently meant it. “As in a doorway?”

Kori gaped and her eyes brightened in predatory anticipation. “Oh, please X’Hal tell me that leads where I think it does.”

Jason stared grimly down at the floor. “Well, I only know of one place with a tower like that surrounded by dead sand.” His gazed flickered over to Tim, who stood rooted in place. “Nanda Parbat.”

The air in the room grew too heavy to breathe. Tim’s heart raced as the implications sunk in. A portal. A door. Doors worked both ways, so at some point, his great-grandfather could have been in this very room, speaking with his mother. He shied away from that thought. Jason and Kori both said Ra’s was bound to Nanda Parbat and couldn’t leave. When though? When was he sealed there?

He needed to get out of here. Tim turned on his heel and marched out the door. As he left, he heard Kori tell Jason to leave him be, to give him some space. Good. Yes. Space, that’s what he needed. Away from this room and the stupid picture he’d never liked. Gods, had his mother been testing him in her own way when she had him stand there and stare into it? Or had she been parading him before Ra’s, showing him off and hoping he’d do something interesting? Tim couldn’t have been more than seven at the time, just barely on the cusp of the age where the spark started making itself known.

It wasn’t long before Tim discovered his feet were taking him on the same path they always did when he sought out solitude. He was outside and halfway up the hill where the old watchtower sat overlooking the river and the town of Bristol. The walls of the ancient keep were barely more than massive blocks of pitted stone. He kept going, craving the fresh morning air over the oppression of the Manor.

One day, he swore, he would not let his mother get to him like this. 

At the top of the hill, Tim surveyed the crumbling keep. Hardly anyone ever came up here besides him. The locals believed it to be haunted, claiming they heard the cries of ghosts and saw flashing lights up here on dark nights. Tim was of a more pragmatic mind about it. The ghostly noises were nothing more than the wind blowing through cracks in the walls and distorting the sound. He hadn’t found a source for the light yet, but he was fairly certain there was a reasonable explanation for it as well. Ghosts weren’t real. Of course, back when he first started researching this, he hadn’t thought undead liches were real either.

The knowledge added a slightly sinister air to what had otherwise been a peaceful place for him. 

Dammit.

Tim pressed forward and headed towards the back of the ruins and the base of the tower. Contrary to what Kori had told Jason, he did not climb it. Never had as there was nothing inside to help support his weight in gaining the top unless he brought rope and a grappling hook with him. Even then, it was doubtful the old stone and mortar would hold. Still, the old tower was his quiet place. 

He sat down heavily in the grass and laid back, looking up at the blue sky. The wooden floors of the tower had long rotted away, leaving nothing but an empty column of stone. Sometimes Tim imagined he could hear the stories this tower could tell him. Stories of the people who lived here, his ancestors who defended this part of the kingdom from marauders and the occasional band of goblins. Many of their portraits hung in the main gallery of the house down below. On rainy days, he used to spend hours there, talking to each one and making up stories about their great deeds.

And just look at him now. Timothy Drake, engaged to a dragon. The only thing that would make his ancestors prouder would be if Jason were female and their line really could continue through them.

The thought of losing Jason hurt worse than the sword he’d taken in his back during battle. Tim clenched his hands and accidently tore some of the grass beneath him. He would not fail in keeping Jason safe from his mother’s family. He couldn’t. If there was one thing he’d learned from all these weeks of travel, it was just how much he loved him. The little epiphany from that night back on the edge of the wilderness had grown into a certainty.

Tim would do whatever it took to protect him. Including going toe-to-toe with an undead blood mage.

“Are you okay, Uncle Tim?” 

Tim jerked upright to find Mar’i crouched next to him. He hadn’t heard her approach. “I…Yes. Sort of.”

“You either are or you aren’t,” Mar’i declared with a smile. “Adults make it so complicated.”

“We sure do,” Tim agreed with a wry smile of his own. “What are you doing up here?”

“Finding a place to hide Uncle Jason’s treasure. He said last night it had to be a good spot and I knew right away where he could hide it.” Mar’i made a displeased face. “But there’s something there already.”

“What?” Tim asked, standing and dusting loose blades of grass off his trousers. He much preferred these to leggings, even if Jason grumbled again about his clothing earlier as they dressed. 

Mar’i nodded and took Tim’s hand. “There’s something wrapped in oilcloth in my hidey hole.”

He was pretty sure he knew what she was talking about. “Those are probably mine,” he said as the little girl led him away. “I needed a spot to hide my journals when I left to protect them from Mother.”

But Mar’i waved her free hand dismissively. “No, that’s not it. I found those the last time I was here with Mommy. This is a different spot.”

Tim felt vaguely insulted. How long had Mar’i known about his hiding spot? Not that he kept anything there that meant something to anyone besides him, but still.

Mar’i led him to the back of the keep where the northern-most walls had collapsed in on themselves. The rubble provided a wealth of possible hiding places, but the trick was to find ones that were dry and high enough off the ground to keep whatever was being hidden safe from the weather. Tim wasn’t certain there was a gap large enough for all of Jason’s books, let alone the small chest of treasure they’d brought with them, but Mar’i unerringly picked her way up the remains of the wall towards a spot that Tim must have overlooked.

It was the perfect place, he’d definitely grant her that. 

“See? There’s something big in there.” She held out her hand and concentrated. A little globe of pale purple light appeared, casting its glow further back into the crevice. 

Tim didn’t even blink at the magelight. Mar’i had been making them since she was a babe in swaddling clothes. Dick called them her pixie lights. According to Kori, Tamaraneans were all mages to some extent; just how much so didn’t manifest until they were in their mid-teens. There was possibly a strong spark in this little girl, but Tim wasn’t concerned. She would be in good hands if she did have it.

He reached in and grasped the edge of the oil cloth. The corner gave way to reveal the spine of a book, wedged tightly in the back. A few more tugs revealed additional ones. Soon, the cloth gave way fully to reveal four loosely bound books. They were journals, very similar to his own. Tim grasped the spine of the bottom-most one and drew it out slowly, the other three books stacked on top coming along with it. 

“There’s something else back there too,” Mar’i stated, drawing Tim’s attention back to the hole before he could flip through the first book. 

Tim peered into the crevice again. Pressed against the stone on the far end was another wrapped bundle, this one much smaller than the books. “Let’s see if I can reach that without a stick.” He set the journals down by his feet and stuck his arm back in. The angle was odd and Mar’i had to withdraw her hand and the light so Tim could reach. Whoever placed this bundle in here either had really long arms or used something to push it back. 

His fingers scrambled against the rock before he finally snagged a corner of the cloth. He fumbled with it and cursed under his breath. 

“You can do it, Uncle Tim!” Mar’i said encouragingly. “Do I need to find a stick?”

“May—be.” Tim rose up on his toes and forced his shoulder into the crack. Fingers brushed against the cloth again and this time, he got a better grip. He carefully pulled and slowly withdrew his arm. 

Mar’i caught a small box before it went tumbling down the pile of rocks, leaving Tim with just the cloth it had been wrapped in. 

“Well,” Tim said, looking at the books and the box. “We seem to have found ourselves a little mystery.”

“Yes!” Mar’i exclaimed in excitement. “Should we open the box?”

Tim had learned just enough about magical wards over the last few days to be wary. “Are you able to tell if there’s anything protecting it?”

Mar’i’s little face scrunched up as she took a closer look, but soon huffed a massive sigh. “No. I can’t tell. Mommy can. Or Uncle Jason.”

“Then we’d better save it for them to look at first.” Tim sat down on the stone, his feet dangling over the side, and picked up the journals. “Let’s take a look at these.”

The dark-haired little girl flopped down beside him, her stockinged feet sticking out in front of her. “That one looks old,” she commented, pointing at one of the books. The leather binding was dark and cracked with age.

“It’s probably the first one,” Tim stated. “But the last one should be the most recent and doesn’t look all that worn.” He opened the journal and froze.

“Uncle Tim?”

He knew this handwriting almost as well as his own. “These are Father’s journals,” he breathed. Before he even thought about it, he flipped to the back. The pages were blank. A quick perusal revealed the book stopped about halfway through. Tim found the last entry and started to read.

_Midsummer’s Eve, Year 24_

_Oh, Tim…what has your mother done to you?_

 


	10. The Journals of Jack Drake

Tim drew in a deep breath and tried to calm his suddenly racing heart. These…these were his father’s journals. It never even occurred to him that Jack could be keeping a record of events. His father rarely took pen to paper if it didn’t pertain to business around the duchy. He was a man of action, not of words. 

Mar’i tugged at his sleeve. “Uncle Tim, you should keep reading.”

“Right, right.” Tim pushed aside his distraction and continued on.

_Oh, Tim…what has your mother done to you? My illness grows worse and she took advantage of it to send you away on a quest I’ve never been able to complete. There’s no getting around it, I suppose. She has you wrapped around her finger just as much as she has me, but I like to believe I’ve managed to keep her attention on me far more often than on you. We are both moths caught in her web and I so hoped that you would manage to escape._

_Perhaps you have, finally. I wish it with all my might. I’d pray, but the gods have long since abandoned me for the choices I made in my youth. You are my son, Tim, although you are just as much Janet’s too. The keen mind of yours is all her, so you may yet figure a way out of this and find a way to save us all. I regret many of the choices I made in my life, but the best thing to come from mine and Janet’s union is you. I am so proud of the man you’ve become. You are so much stronger than I._

_But to find a dragon, let alone slay one? Oh, my son, I wish I’d been able to tell you who you truly are and what your bloodline is capable of. The magics that you could control with the proper training are nothing like your mother’s. Our spark is so incredibly different. I’ve seen signs of it in you for years. Should you ever find and read these letters, and decide to seek out training, speak with the ranger Cassandra and she will guide you._

_On that note, this may be my last letter to you, Tim. I have but a brief memory of you speaking to me before you left and by all that is holy and pure and good in this world, I wish I had the presence of mind to tell you how much I love you. But I cannot speak these words out loud, I cannot show your mother just how much you mean to me. She will find a way to twist and pervert it, just as she has everything else that I once was. My only solace is that she cannot reveal her true face in this kingdom. If King Bruce were to ever find out what she and I have done, the Drakes will be disgraced and what was once a proud line will forever be tainted by my folly._

_Timothy, my son. Rise above the sins of your parents and become the man I know you have the potential to be._

Tim rubbed at his eyes, not noticing until now that tears streamed down his face. This was…this was not what he expected to find. His father...his father was just as much an accomplice in this as his mother. But he was also a victim. A victim who tried to shield and protect his son for over two decades. The year at the top of the entry, it was his age. Or it was at the time this entry was written. He’d entered his twenty-fifth year while on the road in his search for a dragon.

Mar’i scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him. “Are you going to find Cassandra?” she asked in a small voice. 

“I will,” Tim stated firmly. “But I have to go to Gotham before I do. I need to speak with my parents.”

“Will you read the rest of these?”

“That’s the plan.”

Tim climbed down the ruined wall carefully while Mar’i skipped around him like a little goat. At the bottom of the pile, he asked her to find her mother or Jason and send them up here to take a look at the box. She gladly went off on her errand, which gave Tim some time to collect himself. 

He returned to the watchtower and sat heavily in the grass, staring at the journals. There were some much needed answers in these pages if he dared to open them. But they were also a window into his father’s thoughts, knowledge that had always eluded him before. Jack Drake was not an easy man to love and from what little he’d read, he had portrayed himself that way on purpose. 

Why?

The answers lay within the books laid out before him. 

Tim opened what appeared to be the oldest book and started reading.

_Late Summer, Year One_

_I have a son. My little boy. My Timothy. I fell in love the instant the midwife handed him to me, swaddled snugly in fine cloth. His hair is so black against his still reddened skin, which I am assured is normal for a newly born child. But it is his eyes that entrance me most. Such a dark and rich blue. The midwife also informed me the color may change as he grows older, but I know in my heart they will not, not by much as both Janet and I have blue eyes as well._

_Janet...the childbirth almost killed her for all the supposed protections she has at her disposal. The vile witch she calls a mother sits with her now, channeling her dark magics to keep the life within her. I suspect we will lose a young maid this night for her troubles._

_My son. I love him so much already and yet I wish he’d never been born. If he has the spark Janet and her mother so desire then his life will mean nothing, his soul devoured and replaced by that monster who sits in his golden tower so that he may walk the earth again. The very earth that repudiates his existence, that I rejected so as to even conceive this innocent child._

_What have I done? I thought I was prepared, that I could sacrifice my firstborn son for my wife’s cause and carry on knowing I have the freedom to beget another heir and move on with my life. But now, having held him, having seen his eyes, how can I let him go?_

_In a few days, Nyssa will perform her auguries to see what she can learn from a few drops of Timothy’s blood. May he be a null like me. Or better yet, an earth mage like my grandmother. The subtle magic of the earth is far beyond the ken of these southern mages and takes care of its own. While I’m wishing for the impossible, may Janet be unable to carry another child. Then Timothy will be all mine._

Tim slammed the book shut, his stomach churning at the vileness within. He knew without a doubt he’d continue reading but in this moment, he simply could not. 

He had been born to become a vessel for his great-grandfather. He was supposed to be a sacrifice. From the moment of his very conception, his life was never meant to be his own. Until by some twist of fate, it was. Tim lacked the spark he had been bred for. This, coupled with his mother’s inability to bear another child, spared him this horrific destiny. 

Did Janet’s family know of the earth talent? Or was it a talent they had no need of? But that made no sense, not if the intent was for Ra’s to live again. He’d have to go outside at some point unless he could magic his tower to float in the air.

So many questions. Tim picked up the old journal again and braced himself for what was to come next. 

_Late Summer, Year One_

_The halls of this house are quiet in these early morning hours, an absolute delight after the screams and shouts that echoed within just few hours ago. Nyssa and Janet will have my head on a pike and suck my soul into the pits of hell for what I’ve done. Janet was too weak to perform her part in her mother’s ritual, so I stood in her stead. When asked to collect Timothy’s blood, I mixed it with mine, cleverly cutting myself as I did him, a shallow slice on the bottom of his foot._

_She called him an old soul and said she could taste the power contained within. But she did not sense a spark. I tried to calm her, said it was still too soon, but the scratches on my face from her wickedly sharp fingernails were my payment for the attempt. It turned her attention from Timothy though, which was my intent._

_My son lays beside me in his basket as I write. He no longer fusses, which is a blessing. I cannot blame him, not with the curses that were laid upon his wee head by his grandmother._

_Anything I can do to divert their attention from him, I will._

_Early Fall, Year One_

_It has been almost three months since Timothy was born. Janet has since mostly recovered from her ordeal, and after a few brief minutes with her son, has left him almost entirely in Mrs. Mac’s care. I try not to show my affection for the child for fear of drawing Janet’s wrath. She can be rather spiteful when crossed._

_The news that she will never bear another child did not go over well. She blames me for fouling her noble bloodline and rants that she never should have taken the risk of introducing foreign blood, even as powerful as mine supposedly is. At this point, she is consumed with thoughts about her Aunt Talia, who is of much the same age as she, and how she may bear the child their family desperately desires._

_I quietly laugh over the impotency of the direct line to conceive sons. My son is growing strong._

_Post Harvest, Year One_

_I have come to a decision. It has been long in the making but I find that since I started sharing my thoughts with this unremarkable book, I may as well address them as letters. Letters to my son._

_My dearest Timothy._

_It is my greatest hope that one day your mother will leave us in peace and that I can raise you to be the heir this land needs. I am a weak man in more ways than I care to count, and it is through my greatest moment of weakness that you were born in the first place. Two years ago, I was part of a trade delegation to Tamaran for His Majesty, King Thomas, and visited the court of King Myand’r. While the visit was a success, it was the events that occurred on our way home that set me on the path leading to your birth…_

Tim thought he knew how his parents met. A storm caused damage to his father’s ship, so they veered off course and they landed in Zandia. While the ship docked for repairs, he and the delegation were hosted by a rich local landowner, the Raatkos. Their only daughter Janet and Jack made a good match and she returned with them to Gotham. It was a whirlwind courtship, only a few months, but all appeared well on the surface.

But what he found within these pages painted a vastly different picture.

The Raatkos knew who Jack was already. They wanted only one thing from him in return for their hospitality, for him and for the delegation. To the young duke, it seemed a small price to pay in these foreign lands and Janet was quite beautiful.

She visited his room on a nightly basis for almost three months straight. But she did not conceive, much to her and her mother’s dismay. Jack thought he was in the clear when the ship’s repairs were complete but that last night, Nyssa arrived in his room along with her daughter. She forcibly drew his blood and performed some macabre ritual over the two of them as they coupled. He wasn’t sure how, but it proved his potency to be able to sire a child.

Jack was in too deep to back out now. He alone from the Gotham contingent had learned who the Raatkos were and who Nyssa’s father was. The name Ra’s al Ghul was practically a myth in the north, but here in the southlands, he was well known and widely feared. King Myand’r in particular was cautious as Tamaran shared a border with Nanda Parbat. Nyssa used this knowledge to blackmail Jack into marrying Janet the morning the ship left and send her off to Gotham with him. After all, on the face of it, it wasn’t a bad match. The Raatkos were of good blood and family (Jack never did find out what happened to Janet’s father, but the name and titles came from him while the money came from Nyssa), so it wasn’t too much of a stretch for a Duke of Gotham to come home with a nobly born foreign wife.

_Thinking back on this now, Timothy, I suspect Ra’s had his hand in this. I have not met this serpent of a man, but Nyssa and Janet both live in constant fear of his disapproval and vie for his recognition and the slightest bit of praise. He must want my bloodline desperately to send Janet away with me and out from under the thumb of her mother._

_The voyage home was a gift in disguise as Janet left me alone. She claimed seasickness kept her confined to her small cabin and I welcomed the excuse and her absence from my bed. I will not go into the sordid details, my son, as no child deserves to know this about their parents, but at the time, she had a voracious appetite. The respite was joyous, even if my men and colleagues ribbed me about my new bride hiding away from me._

Tim read of the challenges his parents faced when they returned home, from the surprise of King Thomas and Queen Martha to the suspicion Janet faced as a foreigner in the Gotham court. Janet did not acclimate well to the new lands at first. However, Jack was surprised to see her make an attempt to actually act the part of a duchess. Titles and power were a way to appease her private tirades and Jack made sure she knew exactly where she ranked in this new kingdom. But even in the face of all this, Janet made sure her duty was being performed each night in Jack’s bedchamber.

_I had hoped the distance between Janet and her old home would make her realize the freedom she now has to exercise her own will rather than that of her grandfather’s, but alas, she was, if anything, more desperate than before. I suspect she was threatened in some way about returning home empty handed (or with an empty womb). My reassurances that she could do as she wished were hollow promises at best and in one moment of weakness, she admitted that she doesn’t dare fail because even death would not be an escape for her._

_Oh, Timothy. It was in that moment that I fell in love with your mother and the demon stole my soul. I would do anything to keep her alive and well. To make her happy. To this day, I know not if it was a compulsion placed upon me by her during that moment or if it was all an artfully crafted fabrication to make me lose my heart. Your birth was as though a cloud had lifted from my mind and all my thoughts and actions since have been to protect you._

_This next part is the most challenging to write, but it must be said._

_Despite our near constant activity in the bedchamber, Janet still did not conceive…_

Janet looked closer into Jack’s lineage and discovered what turned out to be the problem. His grandmother was much more than the hedge witch Nyssa assumed she was. She was a true earth mage and a particularly strong one at that. Her bloodline joining with the Drakes created a bond between them and the earth, especially in the lands they called home. Jack may have been a null, but he was still of this line. For him to pass on the blood that Ra’s so desperately wanted, Jack had to repudiate the earth by breaking his vow to protect it.

To do that, he killed King Thomas. Not overtly, because no one ever knew exactly how the king died, but die he did, and in the home of Jack and Janet Drake during one of his yearly visits to his more powerful vassals.

_I killed my lord and my friend all because I was in love with a monster. The shame I have brought on this house is immense. I weep as I write these words, the memory of it all too fresh and clear in my mind now. Oh, my son, it would have been far better if I had killed myself instead the night I agreed to your mother’s plan. But her claws are in too deep and even that escape is denied to me. That night, as my king lay dying in the room next to mine from a subtle poison your mother provided me, you were finally conceived._

Tim slammed the book shut and flung it away across the grass, heedless of the damage it may do to the pages. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath and he choked, bile rising up in his throat.

He let it come.

That was how Jason found him a short time later, slumped against the wall with the remains of his breakfast on the ground beside him. “Tim! What’s wrong?”

The dragon tried to help him up but Tim shoved weakly at his arm. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “Gods, just…don’t.” This was worse than the other night when he found out his real lineage. Every single part of him screamed out in pain and horror over what his parents had done. He felt tainted. Unclean.

“Uncle Tim?” Mar’i must have returned with Jason. Her luminous eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Uncle Tim, you’re hurting.”

For all his anger and self-loathing, Tim could not bring himself to rage against a child, especially one he held so dear. “I am,” he admitted in a low voice. His throat was raw. “The journals…”

Jason kept a wary eye on Tim as he picked up the one strewn across the grass. “Mar’i said you two found something important.”

Tim nodded, refusing to look at the book. Mar’i sat down next to him and took his hand. He wanted to reject her simple offer of comfort, undeserving of it as he was. He was filth, completely and utterly unworthy of anyone’s love or respect.

“What happened?” she asked softly. “What did your daddy write to you?”

He scrubbed his hands against his face and shook his head. There were things in the book that he did not want to share with the little girl. She’d find out on her own soon enough but for now, he would protect her against this.

“Mar’i,” Jason said quietly. “I need you to go back to the manor so Tim and I can have a talk.”

She looked between the two adults and slowly rose to her feet. “Should I tell Mommy to come up here?”

“Not yet. We’ll be down soon.”

“Okay. No fighting.” With that warning and a quick hug Tim couldn’t worm his way out of, Mar’i left them alone.

Jason settled in next to him, taking Mar’i’s place. “I glanced through some of those pages. I can see why you’re upset.”

“Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Tim shoved himself up and away from the wall. “Did you see what I am? What I was born to become?”

“I did. And if you took half a second to think like the rational man I know you to be, you’ll realize what complete and utter bullshit it is.” Jason opened the book again and glanced down at the page. “Your father may have betrayed his king and broke his bond with the earth, but that same earth didn’t reject you. Look at what happened on the way here. It’s been driving you crazy, trying to get you home. Hell, remember what happened the other night by the stream?”

Tim doubted he could ever forget. The press of Jason’s body beneath him, the taste of his skin on his tongue. The feeling of utter completion as he laid claim to him there in the grass by the small stream. More than that, he remembered the pulse of the earth thrumming through them both as they climaxed.

He’d slept better that night than he had in what felt like an age. That wasn’t a rejection. It was a welcome. Tim knelt down and placed his hands on the grass, digging in slightly to feel the earth beneath. It was still there, the faint heartbeat he’d been hearing ever since he arrived home. “But why?” he dragged out the question. “Why am I worthy of such a gift when I was meant to be a vessel of destruction?”

“Because there are other powers at work here, Tim.” Jason set down the book, draping an arm over his upraised knee. “Larger forces than just you and me. You may think you’re a pawn, but you’re not. You’re something special.” His grin grew feral, revealing sharp fangs that flashed in the sunlight.

This wasn’t the first time the dragon had hinted about Tim’s abilities, but now he finally felt able to call him out on it. “What am I, Jason?”

“You’re an earth mage, Tim.” Jason’s intent gaze pierced him straight through. “And with the right training, you could probably make the ground swallow that golden tower whole.”

~*~*~*~

Lunch was a solemn affair. Tim remained lost in his head and barely managed to pick at his meal. Mar’i had informed her mother about what happened, and Tim had seen Jason quietly draw Kori to the side and speak with her when they came down the hill in response to the lunch gong. Everyone let him be, a fact for which he was grateful. When it was over, he pushed aside his plate and retired to the library to continue reading.

Or rather, he tried to but couldn’t bring himself to open the journals. Answers lay within, and instead, Tim curled up in the window-seat to stare out across the back lawn and the rose garden his mother had planted when he was a child. It was extremely tempting to go out there and rip them all out.

His mother…his father…Tim didn’t even have to think about what he needed to do. In the morning, he would ride for Gotham. The king deserved to know the truth about what happened to King Thomas. His father committed treason of the highest order; not only did he murder his king, but he’s been in collusion with an enemy capable of destroying the lives of thousands. Perhaps even millions.

There was no way around this. Jack Drake would die for his crimes. Janet Raatko would be interrogated and very likely be sent before the White Council (or so Jason stated when they spoke in the remains of the tower) to have her fate determined.

And Tim…he was prepared to give it all up. The Drakes were completely and utterly disgraced. There wasn’t a single scenario in which he saw them recovering from this. Why should they? Jack brought this disaster to Gotham and Tim would do whatever was needed to save his home. Perhaps King Bruce would listen to his request that the duchy be given over into Dick and Kori’s more than capable hands.

A knock on the door tore Tim from his thoughts. He’d left orders that he wasn’t to be disturbed so only one of two people would dare disobey. Well, three, but Mar’i was more apt to listen than the others.

Jason entered the room and made a face at the small selection of books on the shelves. There was no comparison to his own library back in his cavern.

“I didn’t think you’d be reading yet,” he pronounced as he closed the door firmly behind him.

“I’ve been thinking deep thoughts,” Tim retorted and turned his attention back to the rose garden. He’d ask Kori if she wanted to keep them or not. This would be her home soon enough.

“All doom and gloom, I suppose?”

Tim snorted derisively. “What else is there?”

“Well, if I’ve learned anything about you at all, I know you think of all the worst-case scenarios first.” Jason approached the window, standing close, but not quite touching. Tim could just make him out in the reflection.

“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“Not going to disagree with you there, but I bet I’ve thought of one or two silver linings you haven’t.”

Tim turned his attention onto the dragon. “The only positive I can think of benefits you the most.”

“What? That the king strips you of your title and lands and frees you up to come stay with me for the rest of your life?” Jason’s eyes glitter at the thought. “I don’t see an issue with this.”

Of all the…Tim grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “What is wrong with you? How in the nine hells can you even say that?”

Jason threw the pillow right back at him, hitting Tim squarely in the face. “I can say that because I’m joking, bird-brain. _Think_. Where’s the brain I covet? What will you do _after_ you’re free of these responsibilities?”

The answer was rather obvious now that Tim let himself ponder it. “Seek out Cassandra. Find whoever it is that’s able to teach me about my supposed powers, whatever they are.”

“And then?”

Now it was Tim’s turn grin sharply. “Make my way south and beard the lion in his den, with or without an army to accompany me.”

Jason closed the distance between them and captured Tim’s mouth with his own, hard and so warm even as his claws dug into Tim’s shoulders through the fabric of his tunic. “Now, you’re talkin’,” he whispered against Tim’s lips. “And guess who’s going to be at your side each step of the way?”

“You?” It still didn’t make sense to him as to why. There had to be more to it than the dragon wanting to keep his treasure safe.

“Damn straight.” Jason pressed another kiss on Tim, gentler than the previous one and drew back.

He hated to ruin the tender moment, but Tim knew it was time. Pressing his forehead against Jason’s, Tim started to speak. “You’ve been more focused and interested in my life since we discovered my connection to Ra’s. In these last two days alone, you have asked more questions than you ever did during our travels. I can’t help but think you have your agenda here. What is it?”

His entire life, he’d been an inadvertent tool for the monster he called a mother. He wouldn’t be one ever again, even for the person he loved.

The dragon stepped out of the circle of Tim’s embrace, crossing his bare arms over his chest. But rather than appear defensive, there was a thoughtful expression on his face as Jason pondered his words. He sighed heavily, a small stream of smoke emitting from his nose as he did. “It’s not Ra’s I want to go after. There’s someone who works with him, that’s protected by him, that I want to completely and utterly destroy for what he did to me.” His eyes blaze with the intensity of the sun from the powerful emotions Jason was clearly suppressing.

Tim waited, sensing that Jason would continue when he was ready.

“This isn’t the first time Ra’s has killed a dragon for their power,” he said eventually. Jason’s gaze was locked outside on the rose bushes, but Tim knew he wasn’t really seeing them, lost as he was in what appeared to be a painful memory. “When it happened, there was more than one undead lich created that day.”

A chill settled in Tim’s blood. “Who?”

“My —"

Jason was interrupted as Kori burst into the library, her face pale and pinched with worry and concern.

“Tim! I know you do not wish to be disturbed, but you need to read this.” She crossed the room in a few quick strides and handed him a letter, the seal freshly broken. “It’s from Dick. A royal courier just arrived from Gotham. Your father is dying.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, one of the moments we've all been waiting for... 
> 
> Tim races to Gotham on the back of a dragon.


	11. Preparations for Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took a hell of a lot longer to write than I expected it to. I hit a massive writer's block about halfway through and even though I knew _exactly_ what needed to happen and how, the words just didn't come. I do want to thank my friend curdleddoodle for brainstorming with me what Jason's dragon form looks like and sharing a sketch. That helped immensely in getting over that block!  <3

Tim stared at the letter in his hands, the pounding of his heart loud in his ears. No, this could not be happening. Not now, not on top of everything else. What had his mother done? It had to be her somehow, right? She was looking for a way out, she had to be. The words on the page were shaking as his hand trembled. He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm his jangled nerves. His hand steadied and the blurry ink solidified into Dick’s jagged script. Writing never was his friend’s forte. 

_My dearest love,_

_It is with a heavy heart that I put pen to paper this night. Before you worry, I’m fine, but our duke is not. Just a few short candlemarks ago, Jack had one of the most severe fits I have ever witnessed. He summoned me to his quarters tonight to speak with me about Tim. Lady Janet was nowhere to be seen for once, so I hoped I could use this time to discover more about the reticent man. Jack has always been a man of few words, as you well know, and much of the time Janet speaks for him._

_This was not the case tonight. As I sat there with him sharing a flagon of ale, no sign of this normal hesitancy was present. I listened in shock and amazement as Jack spoke about how proud he is of Tim, practically waxing poetic over all of his son’s accomplishments. It was clear there was something on his mind, something he was trying to say. I only wish Tim could have been present. These were words a son needs to hear from his father._

_Of course, the dragon quest came up. I could not waste such an opportunity to probe, even if Bruce and Kon both advised against it. Jack closed his walls somewhat but let slip that he has also attempted such a mission, and more than once, at his wife’s urging._

_I was surprised, and yet, his words made sense, what with all the journeys he and Janet went on when Tim was younger and still my squire. I asked why it was so important that he, and now Tim, waste their lives in search of such a rare beast just to kill it._

_Jack sat there, staring into the flame from the lamp for a time before he spoke again. He said it wasn’t for his glory or for Tim’s, but that of a demon who has haunted his soul for almost three decades. It was in that instant his face contorted, and he clutched at his chest, his entire body seizing as the fit took him._

_I called for help and Bruce’s personal physician, Lady Leslie, came quickly. All she could do was make him comfortable and give him a draught to ease his pain. At some point, Janet returned._

_Kori, my love, I swear to you I saw not the concern of a grieving wife, but eager anticipation flash across her face for an instant before it was gone. I mentioned this to Kon, who joined me in the room as Leslie treated Jack. He did not seem entirely surprised by it either. As Tim’s closest friend, it appears he has taken the Kandorian prince further into his confidence about these matters than me the last few years._

_I am convinced though that whatever the reasons behind Tim’s quest, the true source of it lies with Janet. I plan to share my suspicions with Bruce about it in the morning._

_For now, I sit here at Jack’s bedside and keep vigil, spelling Janet so that she may get some rest, however unneeded I feel it to be._

_I will send you an update as soon as Jack’s condition changes, for better or for worse. Leslie did not give us much cause for hope though. Jack is slipping away from us._

_We must find Tim, my dearest. Bristol and her people need their rightful duke._

_Yours always,_

_Dick_

Wordlessly, Tim handed the letter back to Kori and turned to stare out the window once more at the offending rose garden. Icy walls closed in around him, enveloping him in welcomed cold, bringing with it a detachment from it all. Distantly, Tim recognized this for what it was; his way of coping with scarring news. He’d done the same on the battlefield, distancing himself emotionally so that he could make the cold and rational decisions needed to stay alive and then have the breakdown he needed later.

What would his next breakdown look like? Spectacular, Tim was sure, considering the conflicting feelings he had about his parents. One thing was certain though…He still cared about his father and despite all his faults, he wanted a chance to speak with him one last time. Was it selfish that he desired to hear the same words of praise that Dick heard from Jack?

Tim squashed that aside. If he had the opportunity to speak to his father again, it would be to ask him why he’d betrayed his king and his home, to hear it in his own words rather than read them on a page.

“Tim?” Kori asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve already given orders for horses to be made ready. We’ll ride to Gotham together. Mar’i can stay here with Mrs. Mac and…”

“He’s not riding to Gotham,” Jason interrupted. There was a rough edge in his voice. 

Tim realized the dragon must have been reading over his shoulder. “Why not?” he snapped testily.

“That letter was dated four days ago. Those couriers at least have the luxury of passing off the mail to the next person and a fresh horse before they get to pass out. If you ride, even allowing for some sleep and a change of horses, you’re still looking at five, maybe six days.”

Kori turned on Jason, clearly just as frustrated with him as Tim. “So just how do you suggest we get there?”

Jason grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. “You can ride those meat sacks, my lady. We’ll be flying.”

Excitement surged through Tim, breaking through his icy shell. “What?”

“You heard me,” Jason replied with a cheeky grin. He knew exactly what kind of impact his words were having on Tim and, in spite of the gravity of the situation, was clearly milking them for all he was worth. “I don’t normally do the whole beast of burden thing, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.” He reached out and ran a taloned finger over Tim’s jaw. “Think you can ride a dragon as well as that horse of yours?”

Kori laughed heartily while Tim flushed in embarrassment at the not so subtle reference to their favorite position. Still, if Jason wanted to go there, and in front of Kori to boot, then why not? Tim smirked as his confidence returned. “I haven’t heard any complaints.”

~*~*~

Time was of the essence and Tim repacked his saddlebags with alacrity. Jason was nowhere to be found, but chances were good he was hiding the small part of his hoard with Mar’i, so Tim packed for the dragon as well. He didn’t have much. 

His hands hovered over his father’s journals. The cracked leather reminded him of his own journals, past and present. The current one was already packed, along with the elvish book and grammar he still was painfully picking his way through. Books. This whole adventure boiled down to books. Jason collected them. Tim and Jack both wrote in them. Someday when they were both gone, would the dragon keep these in his library, occasionally bringing them out to remember the details of lives long past? 

A quiet knock at the door drew Tim from his thoughts. 

“It’s open,” he called out. 

Kori poked her head in, then entered fully when she saw Tim was alone. “I wanted to give you this before you left,” she said, holding out the small box Tim and Mar’i found earlier. “I checked it over and there’s nothing harmful about it.”

“Did you open it?” 

She nodded. “Better to be safe than sorry. Jason was with me, just in case.”

Tim accepted the box, turning it in his hand before opening the lid. His heart skipped a beat. Inside was a ring. A very familiar ring with a stylized dragon, one worn by all the men in his family for centuries.  

“It’s Father’s signet,” he breathed. 

Kori plucked the ring from the box and took hold of Tim’s hand. “Jack wanted you to find those journals, just as he wanted you to wear this. I am positive of it.”

The ring fit a little loose on Tim’s finger, but he closed his hand tight around it, the thick band digging into his skin. He always knew one day he would wear this ring but had hoped that day to be far in the future. The ring of his forefathers. The seal of House Drake. It was a burden he’d prepared for his entire life and now, for a short time, it was his to bear. He could feel the weight settle onto his shoulders, but it only steeled his determination to make things right again. “For however long these lands remain in my care, I will wear this with pride and do all I can to restore honor to it.”

“You have not tarnished your family’s name, Tim,” Kori stated, holding his hand firmly in her own. A similar signet rested upon her finger, more feminine to be sure, but with the flaming sun of lost Tamaran. “You are an honorable man and I know you will go on to do great things, no matter what happens in Gotham.”

“Thank you, Kori.” Tim drew her into a hug, one she returned whole heartedly. “You will be coming to Gotham, right?”

“Yes. I’ll leave tomorrow after I find someone to oversee the harvest.”

“I wish you and Mar’i could come with us.”

Kori smiled as she released Tim from her embrace. “As glorious as it would be to arrive in Gotham on the back of a dragon, this moment is for you and Jason. He is truly your partner, Tim, in all ways, just as Dick is mine. I can feel it here.” She pressed a hand over her heart.

“I love him,” Tim said quickly, needing to share his feelings with someone. “But I don’t know if he can ever love a human, especially one like me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Kori replied, tapping Tim hard on the forehead. “I don’t know if dragons are capable of loving others the way we are, but even a fool can see Jason cares deeply for you in his own way.”

Numerous little things that Jason had done for him over the course of their journey came to mind, events Tim brushed aside as him getting out of camp chores. The hunting and fishing, and always making sure the fire was ready for him to cook over. More than that, there was the care and tenderness Jason always had with him when they coupled, whether it was in a bed or under the stars.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Tim asked, slightly dazed from the realization.

“Moron,” Kori chuckled fondly. “You really are dense.”

“Hey!”

~*~*~

Dense or not, Tim couldn’t bring himself to quite believe what Kori said about Jason. He promised himself to be more observant, perhaps even keep track of said events in his journal just to be certain his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. The next time he wrote in it, they would be in Gotham. Tim grinned to himself, eager to write about his dragon riding experience. What would it be like? The speeds, the height, not to mention the sheer fact he was about to ride an actual dragon…he was breathless just thinking about it.

Tim finished packing and headed down to the armory. Despite Kori’s assurances that he’ll be home soon, he knew in his heart this was the last time he’d be here for a very long time. Taking that into consideration, there were a few items he wanted to bring with. Good weaponry was hard to find, especially for a man of his build.

His staff was a no-brainer. A couple of long knives that were easily hidden in his boots. Throwing stars that Kori taught him to use behind Dick’s back when he was younger.

The swords Tim eyed with some trepidation. They had never been his preferred weapon, but there was a particular one his father had brought back from his travels that was worth a second glance. Lightweight and slender compared to the heavier weapons preferred by Gothamites, this particular sword had only one sharp edge and curved gracefully on the blunt side, with next to no guard between the blade and the hilt. Tim gripped the leather wrapped hilt in his hand and unsheathed it, taking in the shining length of steel.

He had not brought this sword on his quest believing it would be ineffective against a beast as large as a dragon, but as he took in the fine craftmanship and remembered some of Jason’s comments about elves and their weapons, Tim came to believe he’d made a mistake in bringing his other one. Sheathing it, he added it to the growing pile.

As much as he didn’t want to, armor was also something he had to take into consideration. His armor was of good quality and fitted properly to him, even if he despised wearing it. The heavy plate Tim dismissed outright. If he never had to wear that again, he could die a happy man. But his lighter armor was something to consider. However, Jason had warned him that at the heights they would be flying at, the air was much cooler, so that meant Tim would need to wear something better insulated. He finally found a lined leather studded jacket, not entirely unlike Jason’s.

Leather armor was at least easier to wear. Tim put the jacket on over his shirt and vest, shrugging his shoulders a few times to make it lay properly. It had been a quite some time since he last wore this, but aside from a few creaks, the jacket still fit. He strapped on the leather vambraces that went with it and found a sack in which to carry the gauntlets and greaves.

Jason was going to bitch when he saw everything Tim was bringing. He just knew it.

Satisfied with his kit, Tim made his way back to the house. It was time to say a few goodbyes and leave some final instructions.

Mrs. Mac cried over him leaving again, but there was also the undercurrent of sadness coursing through the household at the news of what may be their Duke’s final illness. The people of these lands were hardy folk though and Tim was certain they’d weather the upcoming changes well enough. If he had to get on his knees and beg Bruce to give his home to Dick and Kori, he would, without a single ounce of hesitation.

Tim soon found himself at the top of the hill behind his home and paused, taking one last look behind him. This place would always hold a special place in his heart; at the same time, it also held a lot of pain. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to what was coming next. Jason had been more than enthusiastic over seeking out Cassandra when they settled matters in Gotham. At no point had he given any indication he was leaving Tim, even though the farce that was their engagement was essentially over.

So much had happened in such a short period of time, Tim felt like he had whiplash from it.

“Good-bye,” he whispered, his words stolen by the faint breeze and carried away.

Turning, Tim strode into the ruins and onto the backside of the hill where Jason, Kori, and Mar’i waited for him.

The dragon stood on a rocky outcropping, looking out over the fields to the north of Bristol. Next to him, Kori knelt, inspecting a coil of thick rope while Mar’i was busy lashing together some heavy horse blankets. In the back of Tim’s mind, he recognized these were needed to for the makeshift saddle they would have to construct so that he could safely stay astride Jason’s back. Or neck. He wasn’t entirely sure, and neither was Jason as he’d never once had a rider before.

Tim set down his heavy bags. He’d ended up with a bundle of food pressed on him by Mrs. Mac at the last moment. Somehow, he doubted he would be eating anytime soon considering the butterflies fluttering like mad in his stomach. It also seemed rude to chow down while Jason was doing all the work, especially after his admission about starting to feel hungry the other day. 

No doubt the flight would speed that up. Flying was much more strenuous than riding a horse. For that matter, how much energy did Jason burn while maintaining a human form?

Mar’i glanced up from her work and smiled reassuringly, apparently mistaking his pause for nerves. “You’re going to be fine, Uncle Tim. Uncle Jason won’t let you fall.”

Kori snorted as she rose to her feet. “And if you do, then he’s going to catch you.”

Even without turning around, Tim knew Jason was rolling his eyes. “I hate to break it to ya, but is just as new to me as it is for all of you.”

Mar’i stood and yanked on Jason’s arm so that he turned his gaze on her. “If you let him fall, I will kick your ass.”

Tim tried not to double over at the mirth that bubbled up inside him, but Kori had no such compunctions, laughing uproariously at her daughter’s blunt words. “And I will help her,” she added. “My husband may choose to forget that I am a warrior on par with his own skill, but I most certainly have not.”

Jason patted Mar’i’s head fondly. “I won’t let Tim go splat, poppet. You have my word.”

“Good.” Mar’i nodded firmly. “Are you going to change now? You wanted to wait until Uncle Tim got here, and now he is, so are you? Please?”

Tim was rather eager for this moment too. He and Jason have been together for weeks and the one time Jason transformed, he did it out of sight so he could hunt. Biting his lip, Tim tried not to rock on his heels like a schoolboy, but even the severity of the circumstances prompting this transformation could not suppress his excitement.

The dragon apparently picked up on it as he fully turned to face him. “Gee, you’re not excited or nothin’, are you?”

“I may have been waiting for this moment for a couple months now,” Tim admitted, grinning cheekily.

“Have you now?” Jason teased as he approached and cupped Tim’s jaw in his warm hand, eyes blazing brilliantly in the afternoon light. “Then I hope it’s as good for you as it will be for me.”

With that, he closed the distance between them and kissed Tim soundly, licking and nipping at his lips, completely heedless of their audience. It was almost overwhelming, but Tim stood his ground and let the dragon take what he wanted on his own terms.

Jason pressed one more kiss on him and withdrew, stepping back so that his booted heels rested on the edge of the outcropping. He smirked broadly, obviously enjoying the build-up like the drama queen Tim discovered him to occasionally be. “Enjoy the show,” the dragon said and stepped off the ledge into the air.

Tim rushed forward, not wanting to miss a moment.

A ball of light encapsulated Jason’s body, flaring brighter than the sun before shifting into shades of red, gold, and black. The light grew in size, taking up almost the entire upper slope of the hill. Tim suddenly realized just how massive Jason must be in his real form. He raised an arm to protect his eyes against the incredible brightness as Jason flared once again.

Spots appeared in Tim’s vision as the light dimmed, and he blinked quickly, trying to clear them away.

Above him came a low rumble, as though rocks were falling in the distance. Tim looked up. And up. And up.

Jason stood with his forelegs braced on the side of the cliff he’d stepped from, his long neck and head rising several meters above them. He huffed in amusement and a cloud of smoke shot out of his nostrils. “Well?” he rumbled, mouth barely opening as he spoke. “Cat got your tongue?”

Tongue tied didn’t even begin to describe how Tim felt. Jason was magnificent, easily the size of a barn, his pebbled skin a rich shade of deep red Tim had never seen before. A ridge of hardened black scales trailed down Jason’s neck and over his spine, probably all the way to his tail, which was still out of sight below the ledge. Through some trick of the afternoon light, the black ridge gleamed gold, as did the scales on his chest that disappeared downwards and out of sight, creating a most stunning effect.

But what truly took Tim’s breath away were his wings. Massive didn’t even begin to describe them. Unfurled, they could probably shadow an entire field.

The dragon lowered his head, his blunt snout coming closer to Tim. Instinctively, he ripped off his gloves and raised his hands to stroke the warm skin. There was no doubt Jason could snap him up in a heartbeat, that he’d hardly be a mouthful. But while Tim was undoubtedly wary, this was still Jason. Still the dragon he’d fallen in love with. He marveled at the texture of the skin under his hands and how it moved over Jason’s face just like his own did.

A wave of hot air flowed over Tim and he looked up into Jason’s eyes. In this form, they were truly orbs of sapphire blue fire.

“I don’t even have the words to begin telling you how magnificent I think you are,” Tim said.

Jason snorted in clear amusement. “You’ll have plenty of time during the flight to come up with them.”

Tim was suddenly aware of Mar’i huddling close, her small form pressed firmly against his side. Smiling, he reached down and took hold of one of her hands and brought it up to touch Jason. The dragon obligingly lowered his head further. Her eyes grew even wider as she felt the pebbled skin. “Uncle Jason,” she breathed.

“You are incredible,” Kori stated, bracketing her daughter and raising her own hand to press against Jason’s snout.

The dragon preened under the attention. “As much as I love hearing how awesome I am, we have work to do.”

It was an adventure and a half trying to get the makeshift saddle on the dragon. They finally placed it at the base of Jason’s neck and tied it in place by looping lengths of rope under his long forelegs. As Tim and Kori knotted the rope, Tim couldn’t help but take in the rest of Jason’s body. Unlike the drawings he’d seen of dragons, there was almost a feline quality to him. Jason was thicker in the chest and torso while the rest of him was lean muscle. His legs were of almost equal length, with the back slightly longer than the front, which gave Tim the impression that Jason was just comfortable running on the ground as he would be flying through the air.

Definitely not a trait he would expect for a dragon. Tim grinned to himself, already mentally writing his next journal entry where he was certain pages would be dedicated to sketches of his lover’s true form.

As expected, Jason bitched loudly when he noticed the extra bundles. “Tim, I’m not a fucking packhorse.”

“I know, but I like being prepared. Also, language.”

The dragon reared back, ready to fling another invective, but Mar’i just smiled brightly. “At least he didn’t pack his plate armor, Uncle Jason.”

They both groaned in relief over that.

Before long, it was time to go. Tim drew a deep breath and tried to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He was about to ride a dragon. By the gods, _he was about to ride a dragon_. It was like something out of the stories, but this was him and while his life certainly felt like a story right now, it was all too real.

Mar’i wrapped her arms around Tim’s waist to hug him tightly. “Come back soon, Uncle Tim. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie.”

The little girl pranced over to the ledge and tried to hug Jason. It was a comical sight as she was so small compared to the dragon. “I’ll miss you too, Uncle Jason. Don’t let Uncle Tim do anything stupid.”

Tim knew better than to feel offended. It was a valid statement, even though he felt fully justified in what he was planning to do.

“I’ll do my best, poppet.” Jason nudged her ever so gently in return.

Kori tugged Tim into one of her strong embraces. “You be safe in Gotham,” she said. “We will be there soon.”

“Thank you, Kori. For everything.”

The tall woman nodded firmly as she released him and approached the dragon. “Jason, if you let anything happen to Tim, I will personally light a fire under your ass that you will not be able to put out.”

A laughing dragon was truly a sight to behold. Jason clearly couldn’t keep his fire under control and belched a cloud of flame into the sky. “I’ll do my best, my lady Kori. If he falls, I’ll catch him.”

The dragon and the former princess shared a meaningful glance that Tim chose to ignore as he stepped towards the edge of the rocky outcropping. “I’d better not fall,” he muttered.

With the way Jason was positioned on the slope, he had to jump down onto the makeshift saddle. They’d tested it before when strapping on the blankets, but Tim knew that if they were going to attempt this again, he would have a serious talk with Jason about designing an actual saddle. A few ideas were already percolating in the back of his mind, each one including straps to keep him in place and a pommel to hang on to.

Tim jumped off the ledge and landed on the blankets. There were three ropes he wrapped around himself, two at his waist and the other he twisted around his legs, rather like how Dick did when flying upside down through the air on his trapeze. This was as secure as he was going to get in the time they had.

Oh boy. Those butterflies were fluttering even harder.

“You ready?” Jason rumbled.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Let’s do this.”

With that, Jason started walking down the steep backside of the hill, his gait very different from a horse as he scrambled for his footing on the rocks. Kori and Mari were supposed to retreat to the ruins once the dragon spread his wings. He’d warned them of the possible backdraft.

Speaking of wings…Jason came to a stop and opened them wide.

This was it. Tim grasped tightly at the ridge of scales in front of him, the only handhold available to him at all.

“Hang on,” was the only warning he got as Jason crouched and started beating his wings.

It was the strangest feeling Tim had ever felt in his entire life. The rhythmic thud of the wingbeats echoed oddly from where he sat, like muted thunder, but he barely had time to register noise before Jason sprang upwards, his wings generating the lift he needed to claw his way into the sky.

The ground fell away and Tim shouted, first in terror, but then a second time in glee as they flew higher and higher into the air.

 


	12. The Flight to Gotham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be the longest chapter yet...who's ready for Jason's backstory? I also did some edits to chapter one earlier today to prep for something that I set up at the end of this chapter, so it wouldn't hurt to go back and check it out. ;)

Tim could safely say flying was better than anything he’d ever dreamed of. Once Jason gained enough height, he leveled out and his flight became smoother, prompting Tim to dare and open his eyes enough to see what the world looked like from these heights.

Everything was so small from up here, the perspective vastly different from what he had seen even from the highest towers back on the ground. No wonder Jason’s attitude about humans was so disparaging. Up here, a person could gain a sense of just how much bigger the world really was.

One thing Tim quickly decided he could do without was the wind. He knew it came from the speed at which Jason flew, but it stung at his eyes and made it difficult to look around for long periods of time. If they ever did this again, he would have to design some sort of protective lens for his eyes, probably similar to the magnifying lenses he’d seen in Kandor that helped people with poor vision to see more clearly.

“How you doing back there?” Jason’s voice rumbled through the air.

“Better than I thought I would be!” Tim called out, uncertain how well his voice carried against the wind.

“Good. I’m not going quite as fast I could, but I doubt you’re able to tell the difference.”

Mind blown again. Tim blinked and raised one arm to shield his eyes. “This is you going slow?”

“Not slow, per se. I do have to get to a certain speed where the winds do some of the work for me, but I’d say I’m at about half of what my top speed is.”

Tim immediately wondered what that speed felt like and decided this was good enough considering the buffeting he was already getting from the cool air. “Well, if it’s not too hard to maintain, this is good. I don’t think my eyes could handle more.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

Jason was quiet for a time before he spoke again. “What’s your plan when we get to Gotham? It’ll be dark by the time we get close.”

Tim shook his head in amazement at the statement. What normally took him days was being accomplished in just a handful of hours. If they’d just flown home instead of spending weeks on the road…Tim squashed that thought down instantly. Those weeks were precious to him, time he would spend the rest of his life thinking back on. Time when a dragon was his fiancé. They should probably talk about that soon as there was no need to continue the charade any longer.

Yet another thing to add to his constantly growing list.

“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “On the one hand, I know you’re all for a dramatic entrance that’ll send everyone screaming, but on the other hand, that kind of entrance would attract Mother’s attention and I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Your mother can’t hurt me,” Jason said. His confidence was clear even over the wind. “Yes, she’s a mage, but her one trick is now in my claws.”

Tim felt vaguely uneasy over how the dragon put that. However, the dragon continued. “The only way she could hurt me is through you. Knowledge is power, Tim. And now that you know what she is, she won’t be able to surprise you. You’ve made your connection with the earth now and bonded with it. That’s not something anyone but you can sever.”

“Bonded?” That was news to Tim. “I know I’ve felt it a few times, listened to it, but when did I bond with it?”

Jason chuckled, the sound of which was more like a muffled roar than anything else. “The other night at the stream when you pounded me into the ground.”

Tim remembered the deep connection he felt with Jason that night. The green flash of his eyes when they found their release. He also remembered something else that only strengthened his discomfort. “You said you weren’t sure what happened that night. That you needed to consult some books.”

Had Jason lied to him?

The dragon huffed, which seemed to be his version of a sigh in this form. A stream of smoke hit Tim, there and gone before his eyes had much of a chance to sting. “I may have… exaggerated.”

Tim remained silent, waiting Jason out.

“I need to explain something first. Something about dragons in general.” Jason paused, gathering his thoughts. “In many ways, we’re just like humans. We can be petty, self-absorbed, ignorant. Some of my kind keep themselves so far removed from the greater world around them that they have no concept of what’s going on out here. On the same note, while we’re all magical beings, some of us are more highly skilled than others. After what happened to me when I was barely out of my egg, I worked very hard to become as powerful as I am, as young as I still am.”

Tim remembered the aborted admission Jason had been about to make before Kori interrupted them earlier. For the moment, he let the dragon distract him, sensing he would get back to the point eventually. “You said you were after someone. Another dragon.”

Jason growled loudly, the vibrations of which Tim could feel even through the blankets he was perched on. “There are good dragons and bad dragons. Neutral dragons and indifferent dragons. And then there’s _him_. An ancient dragon driven mad by the gods only know what. His name has been lost even amongst my kind. We call him the Joker.”

This was a name Tim knew, spoken in horror stories told by the light of a dying fire. A chill that had nothing to do with the wind made its way down his spine. “I’ve heard that name before, in tales about a fiend who steals the souls of those he makes bargains with.”

There was no mistaking the derision in Jason’s reaction. “That just shows how little you know. Ra’s made a bargain with the Joker. In return for helping him achieve immortality, he would give the Joker his greatest desire — a son to call his own and raise in his own twisted image. Together, they found me and Mom. I was young enough I still scented as fresh from the egg.”

Tim’s stomach churned, his suspicion growing over what he was about to hear.

“Now, don’t get me wrong, Mom was a powerful mage. But rearing a newborn takes a lot out of a parent and for some reason I never understood, she had me outside of a mated pair so the responsibility of raising me was on her alone rather than being shared with her mate. She tried so hard to protect me that she forgot to take care of herself. The Joker killed her, and Ra’s was there to absorb the outpouring of power. But it was too much for him, much more than he anticipated, so he did the only thing he could to save himself. He turned it on the Joker, I think in hopes of killing him.”

Jason paused, lost in his memory. Tim leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of the scaled ridge, touching leathery skin instead. He didn’t say anything, and just waited. There was no doubt what Jason experienced was horrendous, and so much worse than his own situation. It wasn’t a contest over whose life sucked more, but Tim could empathize with Jason over their shared loss of innocence.

“Anyway, the Joker turned on Ra’s thinking he was being attacked or something and forgot about me. The spell Ra’s cast on himself was disrupted and caught the Joker too. Before they vanished into whatever portal they’d come from, they were both bleaching into the most sickly shade of white I’d ever seen. It wasn’t until much later I learned what they’d done to themselves. I about laughed myself sick over the irony.”

“What happened to you after that?” Tim asked, pressing harder on the patch of skin he could reach. Whether Jason felt it or not, he didn’t know.

The dragon snorted again, steaming in the cold air. “That kind of outburst didn’t go unnoticed. I was curled up next to my mom’s body when another dragon came, seeking her out. Needless to say, I was very wary of other dragons at that point, but that dragon was, and still is, one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. His talent lies in telepathy and he managed to extract what happened from my mind before he put me to sleep. When I woke up, I was in his den with his mate and young daughter. They took me in and raised me like I was their own, which makes how I turned out that much more amusing if you ever get a chance to meet them.”

Jason spoke about how this other dragon was a member of the White Council and how it was through his sharing of Jason’s memories that they were able to determine who had killed his mother. It took some time, but they also figured out what happened in the aftermath. The dragon’s disgust was clear as he relayed this to Tim. “Ra’s and the Joker had turned themselves into liches, which was not what Ra’s originally planned. He wanted immortality, not a dried up and desiccated shell of a body. When the Council went to Nanda Parbat to confront him, that’s when they discovered the curse Mom placed on them as she died. Joker and Ra’s can’t set foot on living earth unless they themselves are living, breathing creatures.”

A death curse? That was only in stories, right? Who was Tim trying to kid, he was living a story, right here, right now. “How did your mother do that?”

“Because Mom was an earth mage, which is a very rare talent amongst my kind too.” The pride in Jason’s voice was clear even over the wind. “I may have been too young to display my own talents, but she would tell me things, like how her bond with the earth was a bond with all living things. Everyone has it to an extent, so the Council’s theory is that Mom twisted it somehow using Ra’s’ blood magic. Anytime Ra’s or the Joker touch the ground, the earth tries to eat them.”

Tim visualized a gaping maw appearing in the middle of a field and swallowing whatever was in its clutches. “Sounds like a sinkhole.”

“Essentially. One that goes straight to the center of the world. Nanda Parbat is pockmarked with random holes. The shifting sands make them near impossible to find, so leading an army through that mess is a challenge.” Jason’s dig at Kori and her sister wasn’t exactly subtle. Tim let it be as he tried to absorb everything.

He still didn’t fully understand how any of this fit in to what Jason had said before, but one thing was becoming clearer. The dragon was using him for his own purpose, probably right from the start. Tim always suspected Jason of having ulterior motives in regards to their engagement and this sealed it. He sighed and looked away, staring up into the pale blue of the afternoon sky. It hurt, it really did. But he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel like he deserved it since he was using Jason for his own ends too.

At the same time, Tim could also understand why the dragon had latched on to him the way he had. If the earth talent was as rare as Jason and Kori said it was, then small wonder Jason wanted to keep him so badly, especially if he could be trained and used as some kind of weapon against Ra’s. Considering Tim’s own goals at the moment, he was okay with this. For better or for worse, their paths were running parallel for a time.

It didn’t make the ache in his heart hurt less.

“So it’s because of your mother that you recognized what I am. Or rather, what I’m capable of becoming if I ever learn how.” Tim forced the words out of his mouth, shoving aside his pain.

“In part,” Jason said over the roar of the wind. “I’ve studied earth magic rather extensively even though it ended up not being my talent. Tim, I’m not sure if you realize it, but it was your earth talent that let you get as close to my lair as you did. I have wards not just around the cave, but over the general vicinity too. An ordinary human would have been shunted aside without them even realizing it.”

What? “And here I thought it was my amazing detective skills,” Tim replied, using sarcasm to cover his surprise. How did he do that? Admittedly, he’d had very few clues over how to find Jason’s lair, but he’d had enough. Right? Instinct only went so far.

The dragon snorted in amusement and more smoke streamed back over Tim. “Magic recognizes magic, even if it’s a wild talent like earth magic. I know that’s how you found me, Tim. Just as I know exactly what you did the other night, even if you didn’t mean to.”

Finally, Jason returned full circle, the path circuitous, enlightening, and altogether too painful. “What did I do?” Tim asked warily. It ought to be good if it took the dragon this long to work his way up to it.

“When we had sex that night, you opened yourself up and claimed your power, your connection with the land. You also claimed me while you were at it.”

Tim almost fell out of his makeshift saddle as shock rippled through him. He had to grasp at the ropes to keep himself upright. “I _claimed_ you?” What the hell, he didn’t do that, right? How could he claim a _dragon?_

“You sure as hell did.” Jason sounded smug about it, tossing his head back to shoot a clearly amused glance at his rider. “Don’t worry, you couldn’t have done it if I didn’t let you.”

_“Why did you let me?”_ Holy fuck, he inadvertently claimed a dragon through some earth bond he didn’t fully understand. Why had Jason let him do that? “And why did you lie to me about it?”

The dragon apparently recognized he was walking (flying) a fine line here as he spoke, choosing his words carefully. “I may not have known exactly who you were when we met, but I recognized your talent immediately. There’s a certain scent to it and, as much as it pisses me off, I am not an earth mage. But I need one if I’m ever gonna have a chance at killing the Joker. So you could say, at least in the beginning of our relationship, I was using you just as much as you were using me.”

Anger burned hotly in Tim. He knew it. Oh, gods above, how could he have been such a fool? Still, he could not deny the truth in Jason’s words… that in the beginning, he was using Jason for his own ends, to find a way to escape his parent’s clutches and have a life of his own. How did that make him any different? “That still doesn’t explain why you let me claim you.”

“Why? Tim, I don’t think you understand what being part of a dragon’s hoard entails. You’re _mine_. When you claimed me, you essentially said the same thing. That I’m yours just as much as I claim you as mine.” Jason was clearly proud of this fact if the way he preened meant anything.

Tim gripped the rope even tighter, his mind awash with the implications of their inadvertent bond. He hadn’t known what he was doing, but Jason did and could have stopped it. That meant… “You want this bond?”

“I do.” The simple statement said more than any elaborate speech could have and Tim’s heart swelled with happiness, even if he wanted to kick the dragon in the ass. Plans would be made for this when Jason returned to human form.

Still, he had to be certain. “It’s not just because I have the earth talent?”

Jason arched his back and flared his wings in what Tim suspected was agitation. “Tim, do I need to fucking spell it out for you? You. Are. MINE. With or without the earth talent, you belong to _me._ ”

Without a doubt, this was probably as close as Tim would come to a declaration of love from the majestic creature beneath him. If the urgency of his situation didn’t necessitate Jason flying him to Gotham in the first place, he’d ask him to land so he could properly show how much those words meant to him. Or did he have to resort to physical gestures and words? They were bonded, so perhaps he could try…

Tim closed his eyes and focused on the beating of his heart, on the air against his skin, and the warm solidity of Jason. In the back of his mind, he could feel a thudding of another heart, faint at first, but growing louder the more he listened. Amusement not his own washed over him as Jason reached out and caught him through the bond. Tim let his own damn of emotions break, not worried at all that Jason would be lost in the flood. How could he be when the predominant feeling was Tim’s ever growing love for him?

Fire coursed through his veins, low and stoked for now, but Tim sensed it capable of erupting into an inferno under the right circumstances. Were these Jason’s feelings? If so, he’d been correct about how dragons expressed them differently than humans. They needed to talk about this, most definitely, but for now Tim was perfectly content to wrap himself in the warm blanket that was Jason’s own affection for him.

~*~*~

The sun was low in the sky behind them when Jason spoke up again. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“Landing in Gotham. I’d rather do it in full dark.”

There were plenty of good solid reasons for this, the least of which was keeping the general populace from panicking at the sight of a dragon. Tim nodded in agreement before he realized Jason couldn’t see it. “Makes sense. I take it we’re close?”

“Probably half an hour out.”

Very close then. Tim looked over the dragon’s shoulder at the ground below. It was densely forested, meaning they had veered somewhat north of the city as Gotham was an agricultural hub and had farmlands spreading for leagues to the west and south. “I take it you want to land and grab a bite to eat?”

“If that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. Do you need to drop me off somewhere first?”

“Nope. I already have my eye on dinner.” With that as his warning, Jason arched and dove towards the forest floor. Or rather, the clearing Tim could just make out beyond his head that grew larger by the moment. The ground was coming up fast and he closed his eyes, instinctively bracing for impact.

He felt the dragon’s wings snap open to slow their descent at the same time he heard the loud bellow of the unfortunate beast Jason had chosen for his meal. The landing jarred every bone in his body and while Tim knew they wouldn’t all be this way, it was startling enough as he clutched at the ridge of scales in front of him. He opened his eyes, curious to see what Jason had caught.

It was hard to tell from this angle, but it looked like a large deer. “Impressive,” Tim said. “Was there a herd?”

“Yup, almost a dozen. When I’m really hungry, I can pack away about four or five of these without even thinking about it. That’s what I did back on the road. One just tides me over, which is what I need right now.” Jason looked back at Tim, the solid blue of his eyes glowing in the twilight of the forest. “It doesn’t bother me if you watch me eat, but it can be messy.”

“I’ve helped gut pigs and butcher cows,” Tim replied levelly. “I think I can handle it. You do what you need to.”

Jason didn’t take long to eat and from what Tim saw of the process, it looked like he swallowed parts of the deer whole, skin and bone included, large jaws snapping bone like Tim would a twig. When he was done, the dragon walked to the edge of the clearing and laid down with a soft huff.

“I’m just going to digest a bit. We’ll be back in the air when it’s fully dark.”

Tim took that as his cue to untangle himself from the ropes and take care of his own needs. It felt good to stretch his legs, as well as have a few moments of privacy. Returning to Jason, he climbed up onto his back to retrieve the meal Mrs. Mac had given him. Now that his feet were back on solid ground, Tim was hungry too.

Bundle in hand, Tim slid down the curve of Jason’s body, much to the dragon’s amusement. “Having fun there, Tim?”

“Tons,” he replied as he settled into the grass to eat the pasties in his bundle. It was more than Tim normally ate, but he didn’t eat much for lunch earlier and the gods only knew when he’d have a chance to do so in Gotham. That reminded him… “You want to be with me when I confront Mother, don’t you?”

“I thought I’d made that clear before.”

“You did. But that means you’ll be shifting in front of a lot people if we land inside the palace walls.”

Jason snorted, turning his head at the last second so the smoke didn’t hit Tim. “Do you really think just walking up to the palace gates and arguing with a guard is going to do much good? We’re wasting time as it is just to wait for dark.”

Tim resisted the urge to smack Jason’s snout. It would probably hurt him more than it did the dragon. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with the fact that you’ll be revealing something that most humans don’t necessarily know dragons are capable of.”

“Most dragons can’t shift their shape like I can.”

“Really now?” Tim lowered the crust of his pasty from his mouth to stare. “You gave me the impression that you all could.” Misdirection about the nature of dragons was something he would give Jason some allowance on. The rest, not so much, not anymore.

“It’s magic that allows us to do it. Strong magic. And since some of us are more powerful than others…”

“Then this is a spell or ability that only strong mages can do,” Tim finished for him, nodding thoughtfully. It made perfect sense.

“Not a spell in the way you’re thinking of it,” Jason said. “If anything, I’d call it a wild talent that’s unique to dragons. It still takes a hell of a lot energy to shift.”

“What about to maintain it?” Tim asked, thinking about how most of his experience with Jason has been in his human form.

“Very little once I’m done. That energy is restored when I sleep.”

It also explained why Jason’s bed was full of fine fabrics that felt incredible against the skin. Tim bit back the barrage of questions he wanted to fling at Jason. The effort must have been obvious because the dragon laughed at him. “I can feel you doing that.”

“I can only feel you when I concentrate,” Tim admitted. He still felt the constant heat of Jason in the back of his mind, but nothing more than that.

“You’ll get better at it the more you practice.” The dragon nuzzled him with his broad snout and Tim wrapped his arms around him. Tempting as it was to open his mouth, now was not the time for their much needed talk. Things were coming to a head, but at least the feelings between them were out in the open. “Take a nap,” Jason said. “It’ll be at least another hour before we can get back in the air.”

Tim nodded and shifted closer, easily falling asleep nestled against his dragon.

~*~*~

They took off under the cover of darkness, Jason using his magic this time to generate the lift he needed to rise up into the sky. Tim didn’t say a word when he noticed it was a lot smoother than the first time. Who was he to be picky when he was riding a dragon?   
  
Flying at night was vastly different than flying in daylight. Tim became certain very quickly that he preferred day because he could see what was going on around him. At night, all he saw were the stars and moons above them. For some reason, he found the darkness disconcerting as only the air rushing past him indicated they were moving. During the day, he could watch the ground below and try to pick out landmarks.  
  
Jason seemed to know exactly where he was and where he was headed though, so Tim tried to relax. He recognized the nerves he felt wasn’t really from the flight and more for the upcoming confrontation with his mother. Was his father still alive? Somewhere below them, did they fly over a royal courier bearing that bit of news?   
  
Getting lost in his thoughts wasn’t helping. His plans all hinged on different variables, the foremost of which was their reception at Wayne Castle. A giant dragon landing in the courtyard was a surefire way to get attention, something Tim was still uncertain about even if he could appreciate the dramatic entrance. Jason had already told him he could easily deflect any random attack unless a mage got involved and then, it would just be to shield.   
  
Tim was sure King Bruce would just _love_ the widespread panic. Once things calmed down, he’d be sure to turn it into a training exercise. The king was a master strategist and liked to be prepared for everything.   
  
A dragon in Gotham certainly qualified.   
  
Soon, Tim could make out the faint glow in the distance. “Is that it?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s on an island in the middle of a river, right?”  
  
“Sort of. The city is on a series of islands at the mouth of the Gotham River where it lets out into an estuary. The ocean is on the east side of the islands.”   
  
“Right. Where is the castle exactly?”  
  
Tim grinned. So much for Jason knowing where he was going. Who’d have thought he would need to give a dragon directions? “The castle is north of the city, on the bluffs overlooking the river and the sea. It’s one of the best defensible positions in the area as there are steep cliffs on both the south and eastern sides.”  
  
Jason huffed in acknowledgement. “I’ll swing over the city then just to make sure I have my bearings. I’ve only ever seen this place on a map.”  
  
No sooner said than done, Jason banked and the light on the horizon shifted for a time before he did it again. Tim could no longer see any lights in the darkness, but he definitely noticed the change in the air as it grew more and more damp.

“Are we over the water? It feels cooler than before.”   
  
“Yeah. Temperatures almost always drop like this over wide bodies of water at night and at this latitude.”  
  
Tim had no idea what that word meant and made a mental note to look it up later. It sounded vaguely nautical.  
  
The lights on the horizon reappeared and grew brighter from the torches and gas lamps designed to keep the streets of the city lit at night. Bruce thought it helped cut down on crime while Selina was of the opinion that they only created more shadows to hide it in. Tim knew better than to take sides in that argument, even if Helena tried to get him to do so. He spared a thought to wonder how she and Kon were getting on with his extended visit and what kind of sparks may have lit up between them. Not the kind of sparks the king undoubtedly wanted to occur, but literal ones as his best friend and his princess both had rather explosive personalities when rubbed the wrong way, which they were both good at doing to each other.  
  
Tim sighed and gave himself a small shake to clear his head. Kon and Helena were not his problem. No, his problem was looming closer and closer as Jason flew on silent wings over Gotham. 

The dragon crossed the river and started circling again over the castle. “This the place?”   
  
His voice sounded loud in the night but they were still high up in the air so it probably wasn’t as bad as Tim thought. “Yes,” he replied, catching sight of the familiar pennants and banners snapping in the wind.   
  
“Here we go then. Hang on.”  
  
Jason descended rapidly, just like he had before, aiming for the large central courtyard that could easily fit half the city if the situation called for it. Tim hoped Bruce and Selina didn’t mind that some of their garden was about to get crushed. Although he supposed it would be Alfred, the lord chamberlain, that he should apologize to.   
  
It was clear when the guards on the wall noticed them. Tim heard the shouts and warning cries as they passed over them but he was more focused on the landing. Jason spread his wings wide to slow them down, heavy beats that sounded like thunder splitting through the night as he landed on his muscular hind-legs, his forelegs hitting the ground a moment later to stabilize them.   
  
“Well, that was fun,” the dragon commented.   
  
Tim was eyeing the guards preparing to attack them. “You have a strange idea of fun.” He drew a knife and cut one of the ropes, using it to control his slide down Jason’s shoulder and chest. “Try to look less intimidating if you can.”  
  
“Right. Like that’s possible when I’m almost fifty feet long, not counting my tail.” Jason rose from his crouch to sit on his haunches, curling his tail around him. He reminded Tim of a large cat, waiting imperiously for his bowl of cream. If this was what the dragon thought less intimidating looked like, then they were in trouble.   
  
Marching forward, Tim raised his hands so the guards at the inner courtyard gate could see them clearly. “My name is Timothy, Viscount Bristol!” he called out in a loud voice that carried through the night. “Please, we mean no harm to anyone here. I seek an audience with King Bruce.”  
  
There was clear consternation amongst the guards over Tim’s words, but they still readied themselves for the fight they thought was coming. However, one knight caught his eye, a woman wearing a surcoat with the symbol of the red rose. She threw down her helm and raced towards him in excitement.   
  
It was Helena.   
  
“Tim!” she cried out, her long braid whipping behind her. “By the gods, you’re alive!”   
  
Tim barely caught the tall woman as she launched herself at him. “What are you doing on night duty?” he asked, thrown off by seeing his princess amongst the guards. The Order of the Rose did rotations throughout the palace, but he didn’t expect to see her Royal Highness outside and on duty, even if it was the inner wall she was assigned to.   
  
“That’s all you can say?” Helena replied with a cheeky grin that was all her mother. She looked so much like Selina. “You’re alive and you just rode in on _a dragon.”_    
  
“I’m a little flustered right now. So much has happened in the last few days.” Tim released his friend. “My father— is he still alive?”   
  
Helena sobered instantly. “Yes. Barely. Dick and Leslie are with him. Your mother has secluded herself…”  
  
Tim was about to ask what was going on with his mother when a loud shout erupted from the gate and another person came barreling towards them. It was Kon.   
  
The Kandorian prince charged right into Tim, barely avoiding Helena, and easily swung him around in one of his infamous embraces. His hugs were almost as vice-like as Dick’s. “I thought you were dead, you jackass! Dead!”

“That just shows what happens when you listen to Dick, Kon,” Tim tried to retort but his breath was slowly being squeezed out of him by his best friend.

“Shut up, Tim.” Kon pressed his lips to the mop of windswept hair atop Tim’s head. “You have no idea what we’ve all been going through. By Rao, what made you listen to your mother in the first place?”

Tim’s answer was lost as Jason started growling behind them. Kon’s gaze jerked up as though he’d completely missed the massive dragon sitting there, steam and smoke swirling in gray clouds as Jason expressed his displeasure. Through their bond, the low heat had definitely increased in intensity as the dragon’s ire rose.

What had he done? Surely greeting two old friends wasn’t enough to piss off Jason to the point where he looked like he was about to breathe fire.

Kon didn’t let go of him, but wisely spun around so that Tim was between him and the smoking dragon. “Uh, Tim…Your dragon looks like he wants to eat me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Kon. He hasn't even had a chance to introduce himself and already Jason wants to eat him.


	13. Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who needs enemies when your family will do just fine? Oh man, hold on to your pants. This chapter is a doozy.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You sure about that? He just licked his chops.”

Tim glared over his shoulder at the puffing dragon. The smoke stung his eyes. “Jason, you’re not eating Kon, so stop it. The guards probably think you’re about to eat Helena rather than this meathead.”

“Hey! I’m not a meathead!”

“Yes, you are,” Helena chimed in, rolling her eyes at the Kandorian. “Why Cassie even likes you in the first place is beyond me.”

“She likes me? Since when?”

Tim loved his best friend, he really did, but Kon was so easy to distract at times. He took advantage of it and managed to escape from his slackened grip. As much fun as it was to see his friends, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Helena, would you call off the guards, please? I need to see my father.”

The princess immediately stopped bickering with Kon and raised two fingers to her lips, whistling sharply in a pattern Tim recognized as an all clear signal. Despite that, the guards still appeared wary and prepared for an attack from the dragon.

Tim approached him and withdrew his knife again, sawing on another rope that kept his travel kit lashed onto Jason’s back. “Let me get these off so you can shift.”

“Don’t bother,” Jason rumbled before his body became encased in the bright light that heralded his change.

“By Rao, he can speak?” Kon spoke up, awe and shock on his handsome face.

Helena asked the more practical question. She crept closer, entranced by the swirling light that lit up the courtyard.  “What is he doing?” 

“You’ll see.” Tim held his hand out to warn the princess from going any further, uncertain over how Jason would react to her. He sheathed his knife and took a step forward as the light grew smaller and smaller, coalescing into Jason’s familiar human form, unhidden by any form of glamour.

The ropes, blankets, and his bundles fell to the ground and Jason emerged from the light wearing the same feral grin that he had in his real form. Behind him, Tim heard the collective gasps from his friends, but it didn’t fully register as Jason hauled him into his arms, pressing a clawed hand against the back of his head to sniff his hair.

“I don’t like his scent,” Jason said quietly, his voice husky and low.

A number of things clicked in Tim’s head at the simple statement and he couldn’t help but chuckle at his conclusion. “You don’t have to be jealous. I have no plans to spend time in any bed that isn’t ours.”

Jason huffed and gently laid his lips against Tim’s forehead. “So long as he knows it.”

“I think you just made that abundantly clear.” Tim spun around as Jason’s grip loosened and grinned Kon and Helena, both of whom were still rigid from their surprise. He felt Jason drape himself over his shoulders and knew without even looking that he was still showing teeth. “Helena, Kon, this is Jason. He’s the dragon I found when I left on my quest.”

“Why does he still look like he wants to eat me?” Kon asked, bravely holding his ground even though he had no weapon to speak of had this been a real attack. Not that he needed one, Kandorian that he was. They were a notoriously strong and thick skinned race.

“Because I’m hungry,” Jason replied, scowling fiercely. “I can also speak for myself, so don’t give me a reason to roast you.”

He blew a small ball of flame in Kon’s direction for good measure. 

Tim rolled his eyes at the dragon’s childish behavior and stooped over to pick up his gear, forcing Jason to let go. The bag with his father’s journals felt heavier than his weaponry. “Helena, would you please show me to my father?”

“R-right,” she replied, eyes still wide but gamely putting a brave face on. The Order of the Rose was a stalwart group of women, there was no doubt about that. Their leader, Lady Barbara Gordon, daughter of Tim’s second mentor Lord Marshal James Gordon, trained them well. “You’ve got quite the story to tell us, don’t you?”

“You have no idea.” 

Helena led them into the inner courtyard where a small army of guards and knights were lining up into battle formations. There was mass confusion amongst them as the perilous dragon they’d been summoned to fight had somehow vanished into thin air. Seemed like despite the ban on stupid quests, there were still quite a few people who wanted to test their mettle against Jason. 

Morons.

The princess marched them right down the center of the wide path, her face clearly visible in the light thrown by the oil lamps lining the way to the castle entrance. A knight commander stopped her once, demanding an explanation for the panic.

“You were there on the wall with me, Commander,” Helena replied imperiously. “Viscount Bristol has returned alive.”

“But the dragon!”

Tim resisted the urge to smirk at the man’s dumbfounded expression. “The dragon will not harm anyone here unless he’s forced to defend himself. Any attack on him I will consider an attack on me, do you understand, Sir Knight?”

Helena nodded in agreement. “There is a story behind Lord Bristol’s return and his current traveling companion. It is one I cannot wait to hear, but we must get him to Duke Drake. The man deserves to know his son is alive before he passes through the veil.”

The knight gaped a moment longer at Jason, then waved them through. As they passed by, Tim heard him shouting orders to stand down.

Kon nudged his shoulder. “Hey. I know we’re going to get the details soon, but can you give me the abridged version? I seriously thought you’d been sent to your death. And you didn’t even send me a pigeon so I could come and talk you out of it!”

Tim hadn’t. It was something he regretted later on when he was on the road. “I’m sorry, Kon. I was so pissed about the whole thing I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left. It wasn’t as though it would have gotten to you before I did. Time wasn’t something I’d been given a lot of before I was kicked out the door.” He quietly told his best friend about how he and Jason met and how the dragon came to be his traveling companion. The rest he saved for after he spoke with his father. Everyone would find out soon enough about what his parents had done.

When Kon learned of their rather unconventional engagement, he started laughing, which made Helena glare over her shoulder at him. “By Rao, Tim! You’re engaged to a dragon?”

The princess tripped and stopped abruptly, turning to stare incredulously at them. “You’re what?”

“We’re engaged,” Tim repeated with a slight shrug of his shoulders as though it was as simple as that. It wasn’t, not by a long shot. “Although, the original reasons for it have drastically changed, so we probably need to renegotiate terms.”

Jason snickered. “That’s putting it lightly.”

Kon gripped Tim’s shoulder tightly. “Tim, I’m happy if you’re happy, but you and me need to have a serious talk here very soon.”

“Get in line,” Jason said, eyeing the hand on Tim’s shoulder with clear distaste.

Helena just shook her head and resumed walking. “Men. You’re all the same.”

Tim didn’t even try to pretend to understand that comment. It was probably safer that way.

As they approached the steps leading up to the main entrance into the castle, the wide oaken doors opened with a loud slam that reverberated through the night air. King Bruce stood there, fully armed and wearing a studded leather jacket not unlike Tim’s own. He’d clearly been interrupted if this was all he’d taken the time to put on before rushing out to join his troops and defend his home.

“Helena, what…,” he trailed off as he spotted Tim.

“Father, everything is fine. Lord Timothy rode in on the dragon!” the princess started to explain. “We’re not under attack.”

“I heard there was a dragon in the main courtyard,” Bruce said, his steely gaze landing on Jason, taking in his horns and glowing eyes. “That he was breathing fire.”

“All the better to roast your knights in their stupid plate armor,” Jason replied, crossing his arms and returning the king’s glare with one of his own.

Tim elbowed him in the side and bowed deeply, feeling the weight of the journals grow even heavier as their contents rushed to the forefront at the sight of his king. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry for the outlandish entrance, but I was in a rush. We heard about my father…”

“You’re alive, Lord Bristol,” Bruce cut him off, not breaking from his staring match with Jason. “And so is Duke Drake. While I want to know exactly what happened, for the moment, I’ll settle with a brief summary.”

“Geez, show some compassion,” Kon muttered, but Tim shoved his other arm into his friend’s side, causing him to grunt hard. Good. What was with these guys?

“I found a dragon on my quest, but rather than fighting him, we came to another arrangement.” Tim was not going into those particular details yet, but he was certain Helena would when she could speak with the king privately. “He traveled with me back to the duchy where we arrived only a couple of days ago. Sir Richard’s letter reached Lady Koriand’r this afternoon and when we heard the news, Jason offered to fly me here.”

Short, concise, to the point. Just as Bruce liked it.

“The dragon is not a threat then?” the king asked.

This was a loaded question no matter which way Tim responded to it. “Jason is very dangerous, your Majesty. But he won’t harm anyone here, not unless he’s provoked into defending himself.”

Jason smirked and huffed some smoke to emphasize his point. Through their bond, Tim felt the steady heat flare briefly before returning to the normal stoked blaze. “I hate picking armor outta my teeth,” the dragon added.

“You’re not helping,” Tim snapped, glaring pointedly at his lover.

But the king only gave Jason another assessing look before he nodded. Stepping aside, he allowed them to enter the castle. “Your father is in your family’s usual suite. And Lord Bristol,” Bruce paused and clamped a hand firmly on Tim’s shoulder as he approached the doors. “Welcome back. You had us all worried.”

Tim bowed his head, acknowledging the heartfelt gesture for what it was. Bruce was not a demonstrative man outside of his own family, so this was a monumental crack in the king’s usual stoic façade. “Thank you, your Majesty. I really didn’t mean to concern everyone so much.”

Behind him, he could hear Kon and Jason snort at his words and from the frown on Bruce’s face, they had to be rolling their eyes too. Why did he care for those two idiots so much again?

Helena tugged at Tim’s arm. Time was pressing. “If you’ll excuse us, Father.”

“I’ll be along once I have everyone calmed down.” Bruce shot another pointed look at Jason and strode away.

“I don’t think he likes me,” Jason said, tossing a glance back over his shoulder as they made their way into Wayne Castle.

“You haven’t given any of us a reason to like you,” Helena countered, leading the way down the main hall. Rather than suits of armor lining the walls guarding the way toward the throne room, Queen Selina preferred a brighter touch. Fine paintings and elaborate tapestries hung from the paneled walls, the woodgrain shining like honey when the sun struck it just right during the day. Tim remembered hearing the story about how the newly crowned Queen had gotten into quite the row with some of the older nobles who were, as she put it, old-fashioned in their thinking.

“I brought Tim here, didn’t I?” Jason retorted, huffing smoke in the princess’s direction. “A five day ride by horse made in just a handful of hours. I’d like to see anyone else here make that happen, including your resident mage.”

Kon chuckled and grinned. “He’s got you there, Helena. Let’s be real. If the Duke survives the next day or two, I’ll be surprised.”

Tim’s heart plummeted. He knew things were bad, but to hear someone else say it made it that much more real. Unless there was something Jason could do to help his father along a little longer, the only information he’ll have about what his parents had done would be in Jack’s journals.

“You mentioned Mother was in seclusion?” he asked instead, forcing the words out of a suddenly dry throat.

Kon answered instead of Helena. “Yeah. The Duke and Duchess have been under house arrest since they arrived here, with your mother bitching and moaning the entire time. But then the other morning, it was the oddest thing. The Duchess didn’t get out of her bed at all. Wasn’t responding to anyone, including her maid. Lady Leslie took a look at her and said she’d gone into some kind of catatonic state.”

“We moved her to another suite adjacent to the Duke’s,” Helena added. “Leslie suspects all the stress is finally getting to her and with all the people going in and out checking on Duke Drake, she thought a quieter environment would be best. This morning, the Duchess roused enough to take some tea and toast and said she wanted to be left alone.”

The timing was such that Tim knew instantly it had been his dreamwalking incident that had his mother on edge. She was searching for him. He shared a knowing glance with Jason, one that Kon didn’t miss. “You guys know something about that?” the prince asked.

Tim bit his lip, not sure how he wanted to respond yet. But Jason had no such compunctions. “We do. Tell me, your resident mage is Zatanna, correct?”

Helena nodded. “She is. But why would she need to get involved?”

“Because my mother is a blood mage,” Tim said quietly. “Or so we very strongly suspect. It’s entirely possible that whatever is ailing my father could be her doing.”

“Holy shit, man.” Kon’s blue eyes rounded at the revelation. “That’s the same as a death mage, right? What’s going on?”

The princess, however, stopped dead in her tracks just before the grand staircase and spun around to face them. “Tim, I have known your parents for over two decades. We’ve been friends since forever. Duchess Janet isn’t the greatest mother in the world, but that kind of accusation…”

“I know,” Tim replied steadily. “As I said, it’s a suspicion that we only need one more piece of evidence to prove.” His father’s journals may not be enough if his mother didn’t act out of character with her long standing charade.

“What’s that?”

“My father’s word.”

“Or if she does something really stupid like try to kill me,” Jason added. “She’s out for my blood. Literally.”

“Helena, please. If you could summon Lady Zatanna to check on my mother while I see my father, I would appreciate it greatly.” Tim had no problems with begging if he had to.

“Fine,” Helena agreed after a moment, her green eyes piercingly direct, just like her mother’s. “But Tim, tomorrow morning, I want to know _everything_.”

“Same,” Kon said and started walking again, taking a few steps up the carpeted stairs before glancing back at Tim. “And that story had better include why a dragon is all touchy feelie with you and clearly up in your business. I may be an idiot sometimes, but even I can see there’s more to this engagement than meets the eye.”

Jason stared after Kon with a thoughtful look on his face as they started climbing the stairs. “He’s not a complete moron, is he?” he asked quietly.

Tim chuckled and shook his head. It was easy to underestimate the prince of Kandor. “Did you really think I’d call him my best friend if there was nothing but air between those ears?”

~*~*~

Jack Drake was almost as pale as the white sheets tucked around him. A heavier coverlet was folded over the bottom half of the bed, the shade of red one that Tim knew his father favored over others. He had seen the man injured before, had tended to his wounds along with his mother and Mrs. Mac when he came home with the head injury that was the cause of his later fits. Even then, his father had appeared strong and unbeatable in Tim’s young eyes. 

Now he lay before him, wan and withered away to some almost unrecognizable husk of his former self. There was a rattle in his father’s chest, the sound of which no one who had ever sat vigil over the dying would ever forget.

Next to Tim, Dick stood tall with his arm still wrapped firmly over Tim’s shoulders, refusing to let go even if he had released him from his previous death grip. “I’m sorry you had to come back to this,” he was saying. “When I went to Bruce, I didn’t know Jack’s health was so poor. I feel somewhat responsible…”

“Don’t,” Tim said, finally managing to shrug off his mentor’s arm. He had enough guilt weighing him down that he didn’t care to be burdened by Dick’s. Callous? Perhaps, but he’d deal with it later. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.” He sat down gingerly on the side of the bed and took his father’s thin hand and squeezed it gently. “Has he been conscious at all recently?”

“Not since yesterday morning.”

Again, the timing made Tim doubly suspicious. “Jason, are you able to do anything?”

The dragon came around the far side of the bed and sat, taking Jack’s other hand in his. Black talons stood out in stark contrast to the paper thin skin. “I’m no healer, but I know a few things that may be able to get him to wake up.”

Tim felt the warmth flowing through his veins as Jason opened himself to his magic. The sensation was unlike anything he’d experienced before. It was faint as their bond was still in its infancy, but it was more comforting than the icy shell he had pulled around himself at the sight of his father.

“What is he doing?” Dick asked, eyeing the dragon warily. He’d gotten the barest of introductions before he’d hauled Tim into his arms upon his arrival a few short minutes ago. Kon and Helena had wisely left them in search of Zatanna.

“I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “But if Father wakes up even a little, then it will be worth it.”

“You’re letting some unknown mage try and work a miracle that even Lady Leslie, a touch healer of considerable talent, can’t?” 

Tim shot a level glare at Dick. “No, I’m asking a person I trust implicitly to help me get some time with my dying father.”

Jason snorted quietly and the usual puff of smoke appeared in the air. “I’m not about to try and stop the inevitable. This man’s hours are numbered. Tim, I was right.”

Dammit. He let out a slow breath. “Mother is leeching from him?”

Dick’s gasp echoed through the room. “What?”

“Your liege lady is sucking the life out of her liege lord,” Jason explained somewhat impatiently. “It’s a trickle, but it feels like it’s been going on for a while.”

“Can you stop it?” Tim asked, tightening his grip incrementally on his father’s hand. He nudged the saddlebag with the journals resting by his feet, seeking the uneasy comfort of knowing they were still there in the event Jason’s answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“If I do, mommy-dearest is gonna know almost immediately.”

“Tim, what are you talking about?” Dick interrupted, clearly confused by the conversation occurring around him.

He really should just sit everyone down and have a talk with them, but certain priorities made that impossible at the moment. “Dick, the long and short of it is that Mother is a death mage who is slowly killing Father right now, probably because she’s trying to find me.”

“Oh.” Dick rocked back on his heels, visibly flummoxed by the accusation, before his gaze sharpened. “Actually, that would explain a few things.” 

Now it was Tim’s turn to be thrown for a loop. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No, I…” Dick was interrupted by a low moan from the comatose man on the bed.

Under Tim’s hand, he felt his father’s grip tighten around his. Tim turned his attention back on Jack. “Father, I’m here. I’ve returned and I’m in one piece.”

Jack’s eyes opened a crack, the barest sliver of hazel peering out from behind his lashes. “My…my…son,” he whispered. The effort to speak was almost too much for him.

Tim glanced to Jason, who shook his head slightly. “This is all him. I’ll see if I can give him a little boost.” The dragon’s eyes blazed brilliantly in the dim light of the room as he focused on the dying man.

Dick laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I’ll wait outside,” he said in a low tone. “Call me if you need anything.”

Tim nodded absently, his attention solely on his father while Dick left the room and closed the door with a soft click. 

The room was silent while Jason tried to coax some energy into Jack. After a few minutes, he shook his head. “All I’m doing is feeding your mother. I can feel her tapping into it. She knows there’s a mage in here now.” 

“Dammit.” Tim clutched the frail hand as hard as he dared. “Father, please. Please...” 

He wasn’t even sure what he was pleading for. 

Impulsively, he reached into that newly discovered part of himself, listening for the low thrum of the earth. It was harder to hear this far above ground, but it was still there, a steady pulse that Tim doubted he’d ever be without for the rest of his life. Jason had said he was a conduit, so perhaps he could give his father a taste of the earth and the bond he long ago rejected.

His father gasped sharply as Tim sent a small jolt of the energy he’d tapped into through their joined hands and into Jack’s body.

Jason startled back in surprise. “The fuck was that?”

“Tim,” Jack said in a stronger voice than before. It was still weak, but he was gazing steadily at him now in wonder. “You found it. You found the song.”

Tim leaned in closer. There was only one thing he could be talking about. “I don’t know if it’s a song I hear, but I feel it pulsing through in my veins like the pounding of a drum.”

Jack gave the barest of nods. “My boy, I knew you would find it one day,” he said slowly, each word forced out with a weak gasp of breath. “So proud of you.”

The simple statement was all Tim had ever wanted to hear from his father. Tears burned in his eyes and he blinked them away. Time was short and each second counted. “I’ve bonded with the earth,” he told Jack. “As well as with the dragon I was supposed to kill.”

His father’s eyes flickered over to Jason, who was still holding his other hand, before returning to Tim. “Do not let him die,” he said. “Janet…” Jack stopped and coughed hard, dry and wracking.

“Father, I found your journals,” Tim stated quickly. “I read part of the first one. Is it…is all that true? About you and Mother, and Grandmother even? About…King Thomas?”

Jack’s eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned. It was a heartbreaking sound, full of sadness, anguish, and guilt that even two and a half decades could not erase. “Yes. Read them all, Tim. They are…yours.”

Tim had hoped that he could escape reading the journals awhile longer and gain the information through his father, but this was not going to be possible. His father was fading. “Father, tell me…how many people have died over the years because of Mother?” He bit back  _because of you_  at the last moment, even though he knew his father was just as guilty of murder as Janet. 

“Too many,” Jack managed to say.

Bile burned in Tim’s throat as the stain on his family’s honor grew even larger. “Oh, Father. Why didn’t you stop her?”

His father glanced at Jason again and back to Tim, his wavering gaze growing intent even if his words lacked the same impact. “Stop her, son. Ra’s must not win. You and Damian…together you can save us all.”

Who was Damian? It was on the top of his tongue to ask when he heard the door opening behind him. He’d given orders to the guards outside earlier that he wasn’t to be disturbed after Helena and Kon left them. “Dick, I don’t need anything,” Tim said crossly, trying to figure out who his father was referring to.

He heard the soft shushing of skirts against the floor at the same time Jason’s head jerked up to stare intently over Tim’s shoulder. 

“Welcome home, my son,” his mother all but purred in pleasure. “What a wonderful present you’ve brought for me.”

Tim was hesitant to let go of his father’s hand, sensing it would sever what little connection he’d managed to establish, but cool logic made him do so. The danger standing before him was much more real. He rose to his feet and squarely planted himself in his mother’s line of sight to block Jason from view. “Mother, I see you’re awake.”

Where was Dick? He should have been right outside the door. 

“Of course, I’m awake, Timothy. All the shouting about a dragon is hard to sleep through.” 

Janet slowly approached on slippered feet. Behind him, Tim could barely hear Jason’s warning growl. “Father woke up a little when I arrived,” he offered as a distraction. 

“Did he?” His mother wasn’t paying any attention to her comatose husband, not that Tim expected her to. She kept trying to peer around him, but he blocked her every attempt, subtly stepping in time with her.

It seemed the time for pretense was over. “Mother, I’m not killing a dragon for you or for Ra’s.”

Pale blue eyes so like his own flared icily at the words. “So you’ve figured it out. Well, I suppose even the best kept secrets are bound to be brought into the light eventually.”

“What would you know about the light?” Tim snapped before he got his tongue under control. This was not the way to argue with his mother. He had to keep calm. Collected. Just as icy as her, even though it galled him to embrace a habit she employed so deftly. “You’re a murderer so many times over.”

“And you’re a knight. There is blood on your hands too.”

“In defense of my home and my country.”

“Blood is blood. Whose is spilled and how are all that matters.”

Tim stilled, stunned by the sheer lack of empathy being displayed before him. His mother had always been cold, but this? It only reinforced the fact that everything he ever believed about Janet Drake was a lie. The woman he called Mother made a pretense at being a duchess. This person standing here wasn’t even human. Even Jason showed more compassion towards the human race, ridiculous and short-sighted as he claimed them to be. 

Janet continued. “To be honest, I never expected you to kill a dragon. You’re smart and clever though, so I knew you could at least find one. Unlike your sad excuse for a father.” She shot a derisive glare at Jack, laying there in his deathbed barely clinging to consciousness.  

Tim seethed even with the knowledge that the comment was designed to hurt. Defending what was precious to him was second nature though and, for all his father’s obvious missteps, he still cared. “Your husband has done more for you than you ever have for him,” he retorted. 

“Oh, Timothy. You have no idea what your father has done.” 

He had a very good idea actually. “You and your family ruined his life.”

Janet smiled thinly. She was enjoying herself as that smile only appeared when she was about to eviscerate someone. “If it weren’t for my family, you would never have been born.”

“Considering what I’ve learned about your family of late, I’m actually okay with that.” It was the truth even if Jason clearly didn’t agree as the heat flared through their bond. 

“My son, just remember that they’re your family too. The blood of the most powerful mage in the world runs through your pathetic veins. All that effort to give Grandfather a worthy heir and what do I have to show for it? A barren womb and _you_ ,” Janet all but spat.  

That hurt. But it only reaffirmed Tim’s belief about his mother never caring for him, that she was probably incapable of doing so for anyone aside from herself. “I may not have been born with the talent you want, but that doesn’t mean I’m without gifts of my own.”

The smile grew even sharper. “Yes, you are a conduit, after all. Useless to anyone but a mage who can properly use such a brainless skill. I bet your little pet mage over there discovered it too.”

Pet mage? By the gods, his mother didn’t know Jason was the dragon he’d arrived with. This was something he could work with if his lover just kept his mouth shut and his smoke under control. “He discovered many more things besides that. Wild talents apparently run in Father’s family, but I think you know this already.”

“They’re called wild for a reason, Timothy. Anyone who tells you they can be trained is lying.” 

Tim was less than inclined to believe a word out of Janet’s mouth. For all that Jason hadn’t been entirely truthful with him in the beginning, he’d come clean during the journey here. Kori had some training in her wild gifts and was helping Mar’i with hers. Father even confirmed the earth talent could be trained via his journals. “Like I’m supposed to believe you?”

Janet smirked derisively. “You don’t need to, nor do I care. You’ve stalled long enough. Where is your dragon?” 

“Right here.” Jason stood and stepped around the bed to stand beside Tim, a solid and warm presence that he didn’t realize he needed until just now. 

A startled look appeared on Janet’s face before she collected herself, cool lines of disdain back so quick Tim would have missed it were he not standing right in front of her. “You are a shifter,” she breathed, sounding impressed. “The level of power needed for that is immense.”

“You have no idea, human,” Jason snorted, blowing acrid smoke at her. There was a noticeable difference between this and what Tim was used to smelling from him. Emotional smoke? It was a question to ask later. 

Much later. 

“You think you can take me on?” Jason asked. He couldn’t sound like more of an asshole if he tried. “Ra’s couldn’t kill a dragon without help so I’d love to see you give it your best shot.”

There was a calculating cast to Janet’s eyes as she assessed them both. “You know what? You’re absolutely right.”

That was all the warning they had before a bolt of energy landed square in the center of Tim’s chest, sending him flying back onto the bed. Pain ripped through him, burning every nerve in his body with terrifying intensity. His lungs seized, and Tim gasped for air, trying and failing to drag it into his lungs. A dull roar echoed in his ears. Or maybe that was Jason, he couldn’t tell as he lay there paralyzed. Spots appeared in his vision and Tim renewed his struggle to breathe.

No. _No!_ This was not how things were supposed to end. He needed to help Jason fight his mother and save his father...

But his body refused to do his bidding and the black spots overwhelmed everything, glazing over the image of Jason breathing fire. The pain intensified, ripping all thoughts from Tim as it sent him spiraling into the black abyss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just do that? >__> Yes, I did.


	14. Dreams of a Golden Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part One is almost done! Hang on to your pants!

Tim’s head hurt. Why exactly that was, he couldn’t be sure considering the energy blast his mother sent his way hit him square in the chest, but the body was a curious thing and there was bound to be a logical explanation for it. He’d get around to wondering about it once his brain stopped trying to scratch its way out of his skull. 

That damn itch was back, the one that drove him to such extremes as he and Jason made their way home. Accompanying it this time was a pounding headache that felt like thunder roaring in his ears.   
  
Home. He wanted to go home.   
  
With Jason.  
  
Maybe even his father if they could find a way to save him.  
  
The thunder grew louder and Tim rolled over in his bed, fingers seeking out a blanket to tug over his head but finding only damp grass.   
  
What?  
  
Tim forced his eyes open, squinting in the mellow afternoon sunlight. Or rather, the stray beam of light that shone down through a forest full of almost bare trees directly onto the patch of dead grass that he’d apparently been laying in for quite some time. Dark storm clouds roiled and thunder growled ominously, proving the source for what he thought was part of his headache.   
  
Where was he?  
  
Lightning flashed and the stray beam of light disappeared, swallowed up by the incoming storm. The scent of rain was heavy in the air and Tim struggled to his feet, the throbbing of his head making him unsteady as he stumbled under the branches of the nearest tree seeking some semblance of shelter while he tried to orient himself.  
  
He remembered the energy blast and the shock of it. The pain. Jason breathing fire and wow, did his mom even stand a chance against that? Then...darkness.   
  
“Am I dead?” Tim wondered aloud. He didn’t think he was. His head hurt too much. Death was supposed to be painless, right? Glancing down at his chest, he expected to see a scorch mark from the energy blast and didn’t find a thing. Just the same black leather studded jacket he’d put on earlier this afternoon. 

It all seemed like a lifetime ago now. 

Thunder cracked and lightning flashed almost directly overhead. The tree he was under would provide meager cover should the promised rain decide to pour. Tim shook his head, not that it did any good against the crackling in his brain. But it did help him clear it enough to take one step forward, then another, and another. His feet somehow managed to find a trail leading further into the forest. 

The wind picked up, carrying with it a cool humidity that told Tim the rain wasn’t all that far away. He picked up the pace and soon was almost running down the narrow game trail, created by some unseen beast. Vaguely, he was reminded of the time he dream-walked and the encounter with his mother. But that couldn’t be right. He wasn’t sleeping. 

Was he? 

Tim wasn’t certain of anything anymore. Just the storm on his heels and the throbbing of his head. Going forward was infinitely better than going back, so he kept on the trail, hoping it led to somewhere with some actual shelter. Perhaps with a fire to dry off as he could feel a few drops of cold rain pattering against his head. A fire would be nice, but beggars can’t be choosers and right now, he’d take whatever he could get. 

A bolt of lightning struck a tree to Tim’s left, the force of it sending him flying to the ground. His skin prickled with unseen energy, so close was he to the blast. He picked himself up and started running in earnest now, his head pounding as much as his heart. It wasn’t safe here. Nowhere was. 

The trail ended abruptly and just as before, Tim found himself almost flying over the edge of a steep cliff, a vast expanse of forest stretching out before him. 

“The hell?” 

Tim cast about, trying to find a way down. A cave in the cliffs below would be perfect right about now, something that he could find shelter in. Then it dawned on him where exactly he was. He blamed his aching head on his slow uptake on the obvious and stopped looking down, instead turning his gaze on the far away horizon. Just as before, he spotted tall towers rising in the distance. 

One of them, taller than all the others, was shining gold under a clear blue sky. He really was in the dream world. Did his mother’s magic do this? Or was it some sort of interaction with Jason’s magic that did it? Hell, for all he knew, it could be his own. Tim knew precisely dick about controlling his newfound powers, such as they were. 

No answers were immediately forthcoming, so Tim braced himself against the wind and raised his hand to shield his eyes as the rain started to pour, hard and stinging cold against his face that did nothing to help his head. Yes, it was in the heart of enemy territory, a no-man’s land from what Jason told him, so it wasn’t exactly advisable to go there himself. But there were _answers_ to be found and if there was one thing Tim was above all, it was curious. The tingling itch grew stronger the more he stared at the tower, seemingly warning him against the action he was about to take, but that tower was where he wanted to go. The throbbing pulse in his head felt as though it was driving him forward, drawing him toward that deceptively golden place. 

He took a deep breath and blinked, long and hard, closing out all the distractions around him. 

The brightness he could see even through his eyelids was his first indication that it worked. Opening his eyes, Tim found himself at the foot of the golden tower under a brilliant blue sky. The base was massive, easily the circumference of the three hills surrounding Drake Manor, and the tower itself rose dizzyingly high into the air, the top almost out of sight from the angle at which he stood. Around him was a desert wasteland, barren sand and rock that felt completely and utterly devoid of life, even though his senses said otherwise. 

Somehow, even here, life was present. Nature had found a way, which he supposed was bound to happen considering the powers that were needed to keep Ra’s and the Joker bound to this place. Was this how it was done, through the dream world? 

So many questions and so few answers. It was time to find some. 

Tim took stock of his weapons. It was rather pathetic considering everything he’d brought with to Gotham. The daggers tucked into his boots and the knife at his belt were all that had followed him into the dream. Not exactly his weapons of choice when confronting an undead mage, but he supposed this was what happened when that particular bundle was laying on the floor in his father’s room next to the journals. 

Was his great-grandfather even in this same aspect of reality? If it were his powers that sent him here, then it stood to reason that Ra’s was not. Then again, it certainly seemed like he was being drawn here. But to what purpose? His head pulsed again, and the itch felt as though it were raking its claws over the innards of his brain. 

He started walking around the tower, glancing up on occasion to see if the same trick with the balcony on what he was now calling his mother’s tower could be done here. The sun beat down on him, but Tim felt no heat or thirst. It was no warmer here with the reflective gold and pale sand than it had been in the forest or on the cliff. In the waking world, he doubted this would be the case. Water would be the greatest challenge for anyone crazy enough to come seeking out this place. 

The thought made him pause and look out over the sand, taking note of the sun and its position in the sky. There was nothing around to give him a clear sense of direction, so he could only assume the spot he’d arrived was due south of where he’d been before. It was poor strategy to make an assumption like this, but perhaps when he was awake again, he could sketch everything he’d seen. After all, when was the last time someone had been to Nanda Parbat? 

Aside from his mother that is. Tim frowned and narrowed his eyes, contemplating the shifting sands. Janet needed to be kept alive if at all possible. The intelligence she could provide would be invaluable if she was of a mind to help them. Bruce was not a believer in torture, but, as Tim had learned from Lord Gordon, there were other ways to persuade someone to speak. 

Turning his attention back on the tower, Tim glanced up and startled. 

There was a balcony high above him, one that had not been there before. 

“Stupid magic tower,” he muttered, mentally scraping his topographical map. “Had to go and screw up that little plan.” 

He drew one of the long knives from a boot and straightened. This was as armed as he was going to get. Taking a deep breath, Tim closed his eyes again and blinked hard. 

This time, he could feel the ground shifting beneath him, his feet leaving the uneven sand to land on something much firmer. Opening his eyes, Tim found himself facing a dark portal leading inside the tower. 

With barely a thought, he pressed himself against the wall, assessing the open doorway. To his eyes, adjusted to the bright sun as they were, the interior of the room was pitch black and potentially hiding all manner of dangers. He wasn’t sure if a wound inflicted here would carry over to the waking world and he had no plans to find out by being an idiot. 

The ache in his head soon had Tim moving, drawing him forward even as he kept himself tucked tight against the golden wall. He crouched as he stepped inside, trying to present as small a target as possible against the unknown while his eyes adjusted. Somewhere in the tower, someone was laughing, loud, long, and not entirely sane if Tim had to take a guess. The sound echoed through the room and made his skin prickle with unease. 

Slowly, the room came into focus. He was in some kind of workroom from the look of it, not entirely unlike his own, which was disturbing in its own right as it was just as neatly arranged as his, just on a larger scale. Back home, Tim was forced to keep his workroom orderly because of its small size. The desk in the larger study that he’d claimed for his own was much more chaotic, even if it was a controlled chaos as he knew where everything was. The size of this room was the stuff of dreams. 

“Good, I’m glad,” a slightly accented voice said approvingly from the shadows further in, closer to where Tim could make out a sturdy wooden door. “Janet said you have a keen mind, even if you don’t carry the exact talents I’m looking for.” 

Icy tendrils of fear trickled down Tim’s spine. By the gods above, what had he gotten himself into? He gripped the hilt of his knife tighter for a moment before he forced himself to relax. “Who are you?” 

“You know very well who I am, Timothy.” 

The pounding of his heart was loud in Tim’s ears as he stood, keeping his back pressed firmly against the wall. Oddly enough, only the itch remained in his head, practically screaming at him to do something, like get the hell out of here. That wasn’t going to happen, not now when there was a chance he could do something useful. What that was, Tim wasn’t sure yet, but something was bound to come to him. “You’re Ra’s al Ghul,” he breathed. 

“Coming from you, I prefer _Great-grandfather_ , mouthful that it is. Show some respect, child.” The voice grew stern as it came closer, the undead mage-lich still cloaked by shadows. 

“You’ve done nothing to earn it,” Tim replied somewhat testily. 

“My granddaughter also said you were stubborn and feisty.” 

“Two traits she often cursed me over.” 

“Your mother is quite stubborn herself,” Ra’s stated plainly. “She had to be, considering how much she failed me, giving me a great-grandson without the spark. Much like Talia did with my grandson, although I suspect she did that on purpose. Still, it didn’t stop either of from trying to make amends, which I will give them both credit for.” He sounded almost fond, even as Tim’s stomach churned at the thought of what Janet, his aunt, and by extent his father, must have done to do try and appease this monster.   

“Monster? My dear boy, I am hardly a monster.” The dark veil over the corner of the room lifted to reveal a tall man, dark of hair with silver lining his temples. He was dressed in rich clothing of a foreign cut, dark green lined with gold. His eyes gleamed green with their own inner light, reminding Tim of Jason and Kori. There was no sign of the white skin Jason had told him he remembered seeing. 

Tim cut those thoughts off and tried hard to think of nothing at all. Ra’s was reading his mind somehow. The protections that Jason had placed on him didn’t work here. 

His great-grandfather smiled thinly. “Yes, Timothy. Please, tell me about this Jason. He is a strong mage indeed to have blocked my gate into your home and magicked you the way he has.” 

Gate? Oh, gods, the _painting._ But Ra’s was bound here, right? His thoughts came to a screeching halt as the pulsing ache in his head grew stronger, practically blinding him with pain. Shit. Shit, shit, shitty _shit_. The ache he’d felt since waking here in the dream world had been Ra’s the entire time. He’d fallen right into his trap. 

Tim’s mind roared in protest as he tried to block him, tried to keep everything that was private and important out of his great-grandfather’s hands, but this wasn’t something he’d ever been trained against before. Mind readers, telepaths…they weren’t part of his world. He fell to his knees, dropping the knife even as he clutched his head, trying to keep everything contained within that Ra’s was somehow leaching out. 

“Blood calls to blood, my boy,” the lich said, drawing closer and closer now that Tim was defenseless against him. “My blood runs in your veins even if your mewling father’s does as well. It is pointless to resist me. No one can.” 

Thoughts and memories flashed before Tim’s eyes, even as he howled in protest. The itch in his head was going crazy, providing a counterpoint to the throbbing, which he now realized was completely separate. Two sides of him battling it out and Tim was caught in the middle, his powers fighting against the very blood that flowed in his veins. 

Jason had been wrong about him, so very wrong. He was weak. He could be used to hurt him. Tim’s soul cried out in pain at the thought of harming his beloved. 

“Yes, show me this Jason,” Ra’s breathed, the tips of his boots standing directly in front of Tim. “Show me who this mage is. The one who means so much to you.” 

Tim fell to the floor, resisting the insidious throbbing with everything he had. He would not give Jason to Ra’s. Not now, not after everything they’ve gone through. Are still going through because somewhere in the waking world, his lover was battling it out with his mother while he did the same here. 

“No!” Tim roared, his voice thundering in the enclosed room. “You cannot have him!” 

He stopped fighting the itch and embraced it, welcoming the tide of power that washed over him. 

“Fucking finally,” a new voice said, feminine and somehow still cheerful despite the annoyance that was coming through crystal clear. “You’re more stubborn than a mule.” 

“You!” Ra’s cried out, rearing away from Tim. “How can you be here, woman?” 

Tim’s vision was blurred as he tried to drag himself upright. Who else was here in his dream?

“I’m everywhere, pasty face,” the woman replied archly. “Tim has bonded with the earth and because of that, he carries a piece of me with him wherever he goes, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Gentle hands grasped his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be.” 

The air swirled around Tim and his stomach lurched as he and the unknown woman disappeared from the tower. It was over in an instant and never before had he been so grateful to land on solid ground. His knees hit soft grass and Tim leaned forward, trying to keep the contents of his stomach in place. 

“You are one stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” the woman said, marching around him. Tim could see bare feet in the potential danger zone, purple painted toes contrasting against the green grass. “It took you practically forever to acknowledge I was there. I suppose this is what happens when a human bonds with the earth and a dragon before he even knows what the hell he’s doing.” 

What? How did she know this? 

Tim dared to raise his head and his jaw promptly dropped open. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life, from the tips of her perfect toes to the delicately pointed ears rising out of her golden hair. His mouth snapped shut as he realized she wasn’t human at all, but an elf.

“Who are you?” Tim had never heard an elf speak like she did though, so maybe she was half-elven? “Thank you for rescuing me,” he said quickly, remembering his manners.

The elf leaned over and flicked him on the nose. It was an all too human action that startled Tim so much all he could do was blink dumbly up at her. She laughed brightly, clearly pleased with herself. “Who I am isn’t important at the moment. Right now, there’s a fire breathing dragon trying not to lay waste to your king’s castle.” 

Tim lurched to his feet, grabbing hold of the elven woman by her shoulders. This close, her eyes were a vibrant shade of cornflower blue. “Jason! Is he okay? My mother, she hasn’t hurt him, has she?” 

“You know as well as I do that Janet Drake isn’t powerful enough to take on a dragon. If she was, she’d have gone hunting for him on her own a long time ago rather than make her son do it.” The elf shrugged out of his grasp. “Her son who is practically leaking power to those who know how to tap it. Ra’s really is a short-sighted prick. You’ve got the potential to be more powerful than him if you just sat still long enough to learn.” 

The words made Tim take a step back. “What do you mean? I just found out I have a wild talent a few days ago.” 

“Wild talent, my ass. Earth mages are rare for a reason, honey. The green is practically humming in delight now that you’ve acknowledged it and even chose a life mate. And a dragon who’s the son of a slain earth mage at that. Good job, by the way. I hear he’s quite the catch.” The woman winked at him. “Anyway, you need training, Timothy Drake. Until then, the waking dream is forbidden to you.” 

“Is that what this place is called?” Tim looked around at the wide meadow they stood in. A breeze blew gently over the long grasses and pale purple flowers dotted the landscape. “I never meant to come here. Either time.” 

“The first time I pulled you in,” the golden haired elf replied. “It was needed to get you to open your eyes to what was going on around you. This time though, well, I can only say it was a defense mechanism your mind used at the last possible second. Not that it was very well thought out since I couldn’t help you this time until you acknowledged me.” 

Tim narrowed his eyes and glared. “Are you behind the damn itch I feel in my head? I thought it was earth trying to get me to come home…” 

The woman smiled and made a buttoning motion against her lips. “You’ll have to come to me if you want to find out. Seek out Cassandra. She’ll show you the way.” 

Cassandra. The ranger Tim had studied under briefly. This was the second time he’d been told to find her, that she’d lead him to someone who could teach him how to use his newfound powers. But before he could do that… “I need to go back,” Tim said hurriedly. “My father and Jason, I have to help them.” 

“Yes, you do. But when this craptastic mess of yours is over, don’t dawdle. Find me, Tim. Find me and let me help you learn what you need to know. Be sure to bring your dragon with you.” With that, the woman slammed the palm of her hand hard against Tim’s forehead, sending him falling back toward the ground. 

The strike stunned Tim more than he expected it to and when he tried to get up, he found himself laying across his father’s bed and the scent of burnt leather and fabric tickling his nose. Ironically enough, his chest hurt like hell here while his head felt mostly fine. 

“You’re one crazy ass bitch, you know that?” Jason was shouting. 

“I failed Grandfather once, I cannot do it again,” Janet replied, sounding grim and resolute. “Killing you will be my penance and my reward.” 

Tim had the distinct impression his blackout was not for as long as it felt like. He cracked open his eyes and spotted Jason crouched at the edge of the bed, energy crackling from his fingers as it formed some sort of shield against Janet. 

“Again, lady, I’d like to see you try. Bring it on.” 

Why did Jason have to challenge his mother like that? That never boded well for anyone. She shrieked in response and blasts of energy slammed into the barrier he’d erected. From the startled expression on the dragon’s face, he hadn’t been expecting such a powerful onslaught. 

Tim wanted to groan but the pain in his chest was immense, already hampering his breathing. Why the elven mage sent him back now when he couldn’t even move was beyond him. Still, he could not, _would not_ , leave Jason to battle his mother alone. His fingers groped at the red coverlet, trying to find traction, anything to help force his body upright. 

Instead, Tim found his father’s hand, weak and cool to the touch. Opening his eyes all the way, he stared into Jack’s own bleary, yet desperate, gaze. The shouting around them faded as Tim focused on his sire. If only Jack hadn’t been so weak against his mother’s wiles, none of this would be happening right now. 

But that meant that he wouldn’t be here either. 

There was nothing Tim could do about that. Everything that he was right here, right now, was due in part to the actions of this man. 

He knew what he needed to do. Tim drew what breath he could and closed his eyes, seeking out the pulse of the earth below him. It was much easier this time, as the roots of Wayne Castle ran deep. The stone, the wood, even the very fabric he laid on, everything still held that tiny spark connecting it to the land it came from. He even felt the lingering warmth from the bodies of two knights laying in the corridor outside the room Janet had secluded herself in. 

No. There was enough death here. Enough blood. This had to stop. 

Wordlessly, Tim asked and the earth responded. Power welled up inside him and he opened his eyes again, his gaze still locked on his father. It wouldn’t do Tim any good, not as injured and untrained as he was, but there was a chance Jack might be able to do something. He’d responded to it before. 

Here’s to hoping it worked a second time. 

The power flowed out of Tim more fiercely as if it too knew the urgency of the situation. Jack’s eyes grew brighter and his grip on Tim’s hand tightened as his body absorbed what was being gifted to him. The old duke’s aged face shed years of pain and misery as something long lost was returned to him. The elven woman had called it the green and that felt pretty accurate; if Tim were asked to describe the energy flowing through him, he’d describe that mountain meadow in his dream or the vibrant green of the riverbank where he and Jason had established their bond. 

Tim slumped back as the last of the energy drained from him. Dark spots danced before his eyes yet again and the struggle to stay conscious became all too real as the pain he’d shunted aside returned. Distantly, he was aware that his father was moving on the bed, that he’d drawn the knife tucked into Tim’s belt. 

A hand brushed aside the hair on Tim’s forehead and a voice whispered, “Thank you for the gift I do not deserve. For what it is worth, I am proud of you and everything you have accomplished. I will not fail you, my son. My Timothy.” 

Jack withdrew, and Tim’s eyes teared up at his father’s words even as he prayed with all his might that he hadn’t made a massive error in judgement as he watched his father approach Jason. Through the hazy shield of energy, he could see Janet’s expression sharpen in anticipation as Jack raised the knife. She still believed her husband was under her control. 

His gift wouldn’t have been accepted if he was. Tim had to believe this. 

Jason clearly knew the man was approaching, but Tim heard a soft murmur of words that barely reached his ears. What were they saying to each other? What was his father about to do? They needed to keep Janet alive… 

The fiery burning in his chest distracted Tim for a crucial moment as he coughed hard, his body instinctively trying to rollover and curl in on itself as pain rippled out. His lungs seized, and he gasped again, choking as he tried to draw in another breath. 

A door slammed open and loud shouts erupted around him as others joined the fray. Tim thought he saw Dick and Bruce, but then came a shrill scream that was abruptly cut short. 

Before Tim fell back into unconsciousness, familiar blue eyes appeared, and Jason spoke, his fingers following the same path his father’s had taken as he brushed Tim’s hair out of the way. “It’s okay, Tim. It’s all going to be okay. I got you.” 

It wasn’t as reassuring as Tim wished for it to be as he slid into darkness once more.


	15. The Price of Freedom

_A few days later..._

A cool breeze blew through the open windows of Tim’s sickroom, bringing with it the salty tang of the sea. Jason had already magicked the room into feeling cooler, not wanting his charge to feel stifled in the oppressive afternoon heat. It was a sweet gesture and one Tim made sure to express his appreciation of. The bandages wrapped snuggly around his bare chest were warm enough and it wasn’t as though he was allowed to leave his bed yet.

Tim set down the last of his father’s journals, his long fingers tracing the final words. So much had occurred during his parents travels that he had never suspected. And Jack had kept track of it all, a record and testimony to his crimes. Soon, Tim would have to show these to the king. Unsolved murders and unexplained disappearances would finally have some closure and then...then he would be free.   
  
Free for the first time in his life to do and go wherever he wanted. At the moment, that desire was to find Cassandra, which would be a monumental task in and of itself because the ranger could be anywhere. The last message in the journal said to seek her out, echoing the words of the golden haired elf from his dream. He was on the cusp of a brand new adventure and already his mind was trying pick apart what needed to be done first.  
  
Stretched out next to him on the bed, Jason rolled over and plucked the finished journal out of Tim’s lap. “You’re thinking too loud for someone who just regained consciousness yesterday morning.”   
  
“I have a lot to think about,” Tim replied quietly.   
  
His parents were dead. The scream he remembered hearing had been his father plunging a knife into his mother’s throat as Bruce and Dick charged into the room. The knight had been knocked unconscious by Janet; no one aside from Tim and Jason knew how close he’d come to dying. The dragon had a theory that she could only control so much power at a time and Tim went along with it. There were already two deaths on his hands here and Dick had almost become a third.   
  
Jack died in the magical backlash, Tim’s power clashing with the blood magic used by his mother. The link between the duke and duchess practically erupted with power when Jack stabbed his wife, an event that Jason described in great detail even if it wasn’t something Tim was prepared to deal with. He wished he’d had a chance to speak with his father more than just the few words they’d shared.   
  
But what words they were. Before he left on his quest, he’d have done anything to hear them. Now, they felt somewhat hollow as the man Tim grew up respecting no longer felt worthy of it. He would come to terms with these conflicted feelings eventually. At least with Jason, he didn’t have to act as though he were in mourning.   
  
“You do,” Jason agreed, shifting around to rest his head on Tim’s lap. “How’s the burn feeling?”   
  
Tim absently ran a hand over the bandages. The energy blast had seared away the leather jacket and shirt underneath to burn much of the upper part of his torso. Everything was raw and only by staying still did he manage to avoid the pain. Lady Leslie was a rare touch healers who did not need medicinal herbs to help a sick or injured patient and she was using those talents at Bruce’s direction to help him cope without overly using medicines that left him in a fog. “I don’t feel much of anything at the moment. Just a twinge here and there.”   
  
“You do know we’re not going anywhere until you’re fully healed, right?”   
  
“Like we’ll have much of a choice when Bruce kicks us out and banishes me from the kingdom.” Tim was fully prepared for the worst case scenario. All his king knew was that Duchess Drake had betrayed him and that the dying duke stepped in to save their son. Helena, Kon, and Dick didn’t know more than what Tim had told them although it was possible Dick had pieced together a bit more. How much of this had been shared with Bruce was anyone’s guess. Lady Leslie wasn’t allowing him visitors quite yet, aside from a brief visit from Dick, and Jason had apparently caused an actual uproar when he was ordered to leave Tim solely in the healer’s care.  

Leslie was formidable, but even she backed down in the face of an enraged dragon.  
  
Tim kind of wished he’d been conscious for that.   
  
“You’re in a doom and gloom mood,” Jason said, reaching up to drag one of his dark nails over Tim’s lip.   
  
“Do I have any reason to be happy right now? My parents are dead, I have to tell King Bruce that they killed his father just so I could be born, and I’m about to give up my entire birthright because of their crimes.”   
  
Jason sighed and sat up, straddling Tim and bracing his arms on either side of his head to gaze down at him. “You humans are so shortsighted that it drives me fucking crazy at times.”  
  
Tim chuckled and ran a hand through Jason’s wavy hair, lightly brushing the base of a horn. The dragon started rumbling that low purr of his in response. “I know that it all means I’m free to go anywhere in the world now. That we can find Cass and then that mage I saw in my dream.” He’d already spoken with Jason about what happened while he was unconscious the first time. Mostly. He was still trying to work through the whole blood calling to blood issue. “And then...”  
  
“And then we can figure out how to put an end to Ra’s and the Joker,” Jason finished for him. “Okay, I take back what I said.”  
  
“Good.” Tim increased the pressure against the base of the horn, pausing only to switch between them. He was trying to distract his dragon as much as he was himself. But at the same time, he missed the physical closeness between them. Jason was sleeping in here, yes, but he’d been keeping his hands to himself unless it was to help him with something.  
  
“You know the lady healer is gonna rip you a new one if you exert yourself too much,” Jason said, his eyes flashing a deeper and richer blue as Tim continued to stroke his horns.   
  
Tim smirked and let go, resting heavily against his mountain of pillows. He eyed the loose strings at the neck of the shirt Jason had taken to wearing instead of his heavier traveling jacket and wished he could toy with them. “That’s why I have you to move for me. Now take off your shirt.”   
  
Jason sat back on his legs and removed the shirt, showing off the long lines of his muscled body and the intricate details of his tattoos. “Bossy.” 

“And yet, you’re still doing it.” 

“I like a man who knows what he wants.” 

“I want you naked,” Tim said and Jason laughed, bending down to seal his warm lips over Tim’s. Yes, this was exactly what they both needed right now.

It was nice to have Jason fuss over him, moving ever so gently over his injured body, caressing the visible skin with soft scrapes of his claws only to be followed by lavish swipes of his tongue. Instinctively, Tim tried to arch up into his lover’s touch, but the dragon held him down, keeping his movements to a minimum. Still, once Jason was seated firmly on top of him, taking everything Tim had into his body, it was impossible not to thrust upward into the searing heat.   
  
The bond between them roared to life as Jason let down his walls, revealing the depth of his passion and desire for Tim. It was overwhelming with its intensity, the heat and fire flowing through Tim’s veins to rip his climax from him.   
  
Opening eyes Tim hadn’t realized he’d closed, he watched as his beloved dragon found his release, head thrown back in ecstasy as he shouted Tim’s name.  
  
To think, this majestic being was his for the rest of his days. It was a heady feeling that made Tim smile softly as Jason collapsed next to him, panting heavily and sending the occasional wisp of smoke into the air.  
  
“We should probably clean up,” Tim commented after a few minutes.   
  
“I don’t wanna move yet and you’re not gettin’ outta this bed.”  
  
Tim tried shoving Jason away, but the dragon didn’t budge and instead spread himself out even more. Time for another tactic. “I’m thirsty.”   
  
Jason cracked open an eye and glared. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know what you’re pullin’,” he groused even as he slid off the bed. He poured Tim a glass of watered wine from the pitcher on the sideboard and brought it to him.   
  
“Who, me?” Tim tried batting his eyes innocently even if the effect was completely lost, his gaze locked onto Jason’s bare body as the dragon strode across the room into the garderobe. He left the door open as he washed up.   
  
Settling back against his pillows, Tim’s mind began to wander back toward his earlier thoughts. There was so much to do, and he needed to speak with his king first. His chest ached a bit from his recent activities, but he wasn’t tired. Far from it. Sipping his wine, Tim frowned at the medicinal taste to it. There was something in it that he could only hope didn’t put him to sleep quite yet.  
  
The bell-pull to summon a servant was too far out of his reach, and Leslie had been adamant that he move as little as possible to avoid aggravating the wound on his chest, so Tim waited until Jason returned with a damp rag to clean him up. 

“I need to speak with Bruce,” Tim said quietly. “Today, if possible. I don’t know what he’s got planned for Father’s funeral, but that needs to not happen.” 

“Last I heard, he was waiting to speak with you before finalizing anything. The fact that he walked in just in time to see your old man stab his wife and you looking a bit charbroiled made him realize a glorious funeral wasn’t in the books.” 

“I’m surprised he didn’t think you’d roasted me.” 

Jason flicked him on the nose and laughed at the face he made. “The only thing I set on fire were the curtains after your mom deflected my flames.” 

“Those poor innocent curtains,” Tim deadpanned and shook his head in mock sorrow. “Went out in a blaze of glory.” 

“That was the most action they’d ever seen.” Jason looked like he was about to say more but was interrupted by a knock at the door. His head whipped around, and he started growling low in his throat, clearly not pleased with someone daring to intrude on their private time. It wasn’t Leslie, that much was certain, as she’d just knock briskly then walk right in. 

Tim hastily tugged the sheet up over his still naked body, but Jason didn’t even pretend to have any shame as he stalked over to the door. 

 _“Jason, put on some pants!”_ Tim hissed loudly at him. 

It fell on deaf ears. 

The dragon yanked open the door. “What the fuck are you two doing here?” 

Tim had to admit that his friends handled the situation well. He couldn’t see them yet, but there was nothing wrong with his ears. 

“Wow. Now I know why Tim looked so happy the other day,” came Kon’s voice, sounding completely nonplussed. “Just how exclusive are you guys? I wouldn’t mind going for a ride on – OW!” 

“Do you ever shut up?” Helena asked and now Tim wanted to sink back into the bed and let it swallow him whole. “Also, those are some awesome tattoos, Jason. Are they elven designed?” 

“They’re the only ones who have a chance at piercing this skin,” Jason replied with an easy shrug as he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. Anyone else in the hallway would have a clear view of _everything_ and Tim started looking around for the pants Jason discarded earlier. Screw not moving, Helena was still his princess and Bruce would have his head over this if he were to find out, even if the queen would pout over missing the show. 

Helena was clearly Selina’s daughter. 

The pants were on the floor well out of reach. 

“Jason!” Tim shouted again. “Put on some gods-be-damned pants or I will get out of this bed to find them myself.” 

“You humans are such prudes,” Jason said as he glared over at Tim. “If you so much as move an inch, I will bind you to that bed. Don’t think I won’t.” He waggled his fingers at him for good measure. 

“Kinky,” Kon stated and grunted again at what was undoubtedly Helena shoving her elbow into his ribs for a second time. 

“Jason, Leslie gave us permission to visit with Tim if you think he’s up for visitors,” Helena explained in a reasonable tone. Tim knew that voice. It often was a prelude to some serious fuckery if she didn’t get her way.

Kon snorted in laughter. “From the look of things, I’d say he is. Or was…” 

The dragon blew smoke in what Tim thought was Kon’s face. “We just finished. And since I have an errand to run, you guys can babysit while I’m gone.” 

With that, Jason turned and strode back into the room, allowing Kon and Helena to enter. Tim didn’t even try to hide his laughter as both of his friends stared at the finely muscled posterior the dragon presented them with. 

It didn’t take long for Jason to dress. Before he left, he bent over to press his lips against Tim’s black hair. “I’m gonna find Bruce for you and set something up for this evening. Try not to exert yourself.” 

“No promises.” 

Jason growled, but there was no bite to it. “Drink some more of that wine. It’s got a weak painkiller in it for you. Not enough to make you drowsy, but it should take the edge off.” 

Tim’s chest was starting to ache again, which Jason could probably sense through their bond. “I’ll drink some more of it. Now, go.” 

The dragon did just that and as soon as he’d left the room, Kon flopped down heavily on the bed next to Tim. “By Rao. Tim, you lucky dog. Are all dragons hung like that? Because really…” 

Helena sat down right on top of him, effectively shutting him up. She was dressed more like a princess today, in a simple blue gown and her hair up in some fancy twist. “Kon, shut up. I’m pretty sure Jason would eat you if you try suggesting a threesome.” 

“No, he’d just set fire to his clothes,” Tim couldn’t help but add. “It took me a long time to realize it, but he’s actually jealous of you, Kon.” 

Kon wheezed as he shoved Helena off. “Me? Why?” 

“I think it’s because we’ve been lovers before.”

“But we grew out of that stage!” 

Helena started laughing. “I swear, if Father ever learns what imbeciles the two of you really are, he’ll turn grayer than he already is.” 

“Maybe he’ll finally get a clue that you and I just aren’t meant to be. That we’re destined to be lucky in love with other people.” Kon made a face as he sat up and poked Tim’s arm. “Although from the looks of it, I’d say Timmy here is the lucky one. Seriously man, what’s it like to take a ride on a dragon?”

Even Helena looked intrigued as she perched at the end of the bed. “Yes, Tim. You promised us a story. Now, _spill_. _”_

Tim swallowed under the intent gazes of his two closest friends. “I think I need something to drink first.” 

~*~*~ 

Several hours and one nap later, Tim was allowed to leave his sickroom and meet with King Bruce in his private study. He wasn’t exactly able to dress properly for the occasion, but Jason did help him into some pants and a robe so he was somewhat presentable. Joining them was Dick, which Tim was okay with. The man was his oldest friend after all, even if he did eye Jason warily as the dragon guided Tim to his chair, then took a spot over by the door, his silent pillar of support as Tim told a most horrendous tale. 

“…And so, my father murdered King Thomas, through the use of a subtle poison devised by my mother.” Tim clenched his hands on the ends of the armrest and resolutely kept his head held high as he spoke. The signet ring of his forefathers felt heavy on his finger. 

Bruce’s eyes hardened even while Dick reached out to grab hold of the king’s broad shoulder as he tried to rise. “You said Jack confessed to these crimes through those journals?” he asked, his tone flinty as he started to close off from everyone around him. 

Tim nodded, his gaze dropping to the books that sat on the low table between them. Jason had placed them there when they’d arrived. “This, as well as a number of other murders that he either actively took part in or served as an accomplice to my mother.” 

All sordid details lay before them. His legacy, his shame. 

“How many?” Bruce asked carefully. 

“Fifty-three.” 

Dick gasped, his face draining of color. Tim understood the feeling all too well. This had been their liege lord, the one who had accepted their oaths of service and fealty, as well as to protect their fellow countrymen. How could they have known the one they needed to save these people from had been the Duke himself, all for the sake of his lady wife. 

“Tim, are you sure?” his first mentor asked. 

“It’s all right there.” Tim gestured to the journals. “I’d read part of the first one when your message to Kori arrived. That message, in conjunction with these, drove Jason and I here with all possible haste. I wanted to confront him, to ask more about what I’d read…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I did not get that opportunity. But after what Mother said and did, I don’t see that there could be any mistake.” 

Bruce picked up the first journal and sighed, the lines on his face growing deeper in the evening twilight. “Selina, Zatanna, Koriand’r, and I have all known for years the threat Janet Drake presented to this kingdom. When she first arrived here with Jack, I remember Father speaking quite extensively with them both before they went on to Bristol. It wasn’t until after his death that Zatanna came to me and revealed the contents of that discussion and the danger Janet brought with her.” 

“Your Majesty, why was nothing done then?” Tim dared to ask. 

“Because the Duke of Drake had always been an honorable man and one of my father’s closest friends and advisors. Zatanna told me Jack and Janet submitted themselves to an inquiry that was magical in nature to help ease any doubts about their supposed love story. They passed, but Zee has always been doubtful, especially after Koriand’r arrived and shared her story about the atrocities wrought by the al Ghul’s in Tamaran.” 

Dick stood abruptly, shoving away from his chair. “You mean to say Kori knows about this? About Janet and…” 

“Kori knows that Mother was a Raatko and that my grandmother Nyssa is Ra’s al Ghul’s eldest daughter,” Tim stated bluntly. He saw no need to beat around the bush even if Dick was bound to have a rather lengthy and loud discussion with his wife when she arrived in Gotham. “Mother was raised in the traditions of her family and she knew it.” 

“And what about you, Timothy?” Bruce cut in, his eyes boring into Tim’s. “Are there any foul traditions that you were raised with that you want to share with us?” 

At this, Dick scoffed and turned his attention back to Bruce. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous of a question that is? I practically raised Tim myself.” 

“Dick, it’s a valid question,” Tim said tiredly. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. The stress of the day was getting to him. “I was tested for the spark more times than I care to remember. Everything that was important to Mother revolved around it and when I failed, she grew more and more distant. There were times I did not see or speak with her for months and that was when she and Father were at home and not on one of their frequent trips. It wasn’t until this year that she started trying to mend fences, I think now to sucker me into my quest.” 

“Which was a complete and utter waste of time,” Dick all but snarled, but Tim shook his head in disagreement. 

“No, it wasn’t. If I hadn’t left, none of this would have come to light. Additionally, I not only befriended the dragon I was sent to kill, but I also discovered I have a wild talent of my own, one that Mother and Ra’s al Ghul himself have deemed to be worthless for their selfish needs.” 

“What is that gift, Timothy?” Bruce asked, his tone still hard but his gaze softening ever so slightly. “Because it must be pretty special if you can now claim a dragon not only as your friend, but also as your lover.” 

Someone must have spoken with Helena before this little meeting. Tim didn’t begrudge his friend speaking with her father, but he did wonder how much of what he told his friends stayed private. The king did not need to know the little stunt Jason had pulled earlier. “Father had mage blood in his veins, a strong line that Mother, Grandmother, and that fiend all wanted to pass on to me so that Ra’s could inhabit my body, essentially by destroying my soul. But Father also had another line flowing through him and that one is what took root. With the proper teaching, I can become an earth mage.” 

“Which is pretty much the only type of magic out there that can royally fuck up that lich,” Jason added. His voice sounded close and Tim looked up to find the dragon standing behind his chair. “The earth talent is quite possibly the rarest of the different types of mage-craft out there.” 

“I feel like I’ve heard that before,” Dick commented. The king gave him a look and he shrugged, an easy smile appearing briefly. “I grew up in a traveling circus, Bruce. There’s all kinds of wild talents out there, things that make people seem odd or able to do strange things. I also have a wife and daughter with talents of their own.” He turned his attention back to Tim, frowning slightly. “What I find odd though is that your talent is manifesting now. You’ve never shown an aptitude for magic at all.” 

“Wild talents can make themselves known at any time.” Surprisingly, it was Bruce who made this statement. “I did some checking into your family history after Zatanna spoke to me about Janet. Your great-grandmother on Jack’s side was a hedge-witch, correct?” 

Tim nodded. “According to Father’s journals, she was much more than that. As much as I despise one of half of my heritage, I am glad I can embrace the other half.” Now it was time for the hard part. He stood on wobbly feet and bowed as best he could with his chest bound as it was. “Your Majesty, there is nothing I can do that will make up for what my parents have done, but, with your blessing, I’d like to try. I’ve been told by two different parties now that I need to find Cassandra the Ranger, that she’ll be able to lead me to the person who can teach me.”

Bruce was silent, assessing Tim with that usual unreadable expression of his. He was still upset over everything and with good reason. Now the one person who he could reasonably lay any blame upon was asking to leave. This wasn’t an easy decision to make and Tim wished he was in a better position to ask. 

“I think you’re forgetting something rather important,” the king finally said. “You’re the Duke of Drake now. All those responsibilities you’ve been shouldering for years are officially yours.” 

Tim steeled himself for what he was about to say, drawing strength from Jason’s presence and their bond. “Your Majesty, in light of these events, I feel that the dishonor Father brought to my family name is such that I cannot willingly continue on with my birthright. I need to make amends not only to you, but also to the families of those my parents brought such sadness to. I cannot do that as the Duke of Drake, but simply as Timothy Drake. As such, I formally renounce all rights and privileges given to me not only as the Duke of Drake, but also as Viscount Bristol.” He removed the ring that had sat on his finger for so short a time and held it out to Bruce. 

Dick sat back down heavily in his chair, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Are you certain of this, Timothy?” Bruce asked gravely. “You are innocent of your parents’ crimes and are still most worthy of your birthright. You have proven that for years now.” 

“I am, your Majesty. I have a new path now, one that I can only hope will end in the destruction of the one who has brought so much pain and suffering to us both.” 

“I respect your decision even if I do not fully agree with it.” Bruce did not accept the ring; instead, he reached out and closed Tim’s hand around it. “That ring is yours, Timothy. Wear it as a reminder of everything that has happened, as well as where you come from.” The king glanced over at Dick. “I suppose this means though I need to find a new duke or simply turn the Drake lands into crown property.” 

Tim slipped the ring back on his finger and suppressed a grin as best he could. He was tired and his chest was starting to hurt again, so he didn’t do a very good job of hiding it. Bruce’s not so subtle hint was clear to him even if Dick was still clueless. “I think there’s someone more than worthy of taking over right here in this room. He even has a wife who’s technically been running things in our absence that could show him how it’s really done.” 

They both looked to Dick, who raised his hands and shook his head vehemently. “You have got to be joking,” he protested. “I’m a circus brat who doesn’t even know what kingdom he was born in. I can’t be a duke!” 

“I have a wife who was born on the streets of Gotham to a whore and a cutpurse,” Bruce said plainly. “Blood means nothing, Dick. It’s what’s in your head and your heart that matters.” The king turned his blue gaze on Tim. “I say that you too, Timothy. You are not your parents.” 

Tim bit back his protest because he had proof that his bloodline could be used against him, but now was not the time. Instead, he nodded, accepting the reproach for what it was. “Thank you, your Majesty.” 

Bruce stood and rounded the table to carefully clasp Tim on his shoulders. “Timothy, despite what I said earlier, I fully believe in you and am certain that you will be able to accomplish anything you set your mind to. Now, I can tell you’re flagging, so return to your room and get some rest. You still have a long recovery ahead of you, which leaves us with plenty of time to talk more about this.” 

“Yes, your Majesty.” Tim blinked hard at the tears he felt burning in his eyes. “I can only hope I live up to the faith you have in me.” 

“You went on a quest to kill a dragon and returned to us flying on the back of one. If that’s not an accomplishment, then I don’t know what is.” 

~*~*~ 

It took Tim almost two months to fully recover from his injury, even with Leslie’s assistance. Despite her best efforts, an infection set in and Tim lapsed into a fever for days before he finally came out of it. Jason took the whole thing as a personal affront to his ability to care for him, and afterward spent much of his time trailing after the healer learning how to _properly care for humans._ His words, which made everyone laugh even as Leslie barked orders and he leapt to obey. 

While Tim was almost delirious with fever, Bruce read Jack’s journals. Afterward, and in true Bruce-fashion, he sat and grilled Tim and Dick over events they would have remembered. Jack had been excellent about providing places and names, but vague over dates. They’d ended up sending Dick back to Bristol to retrieve Tim’s journals to see if they could cross-reference events. 

Kori and Mar’i returned with him, much to Jason’s delight. Mar’i spent much of her time with the dragon; the two soon became thick as thieves, much to Dick’s consternation.

The new Duke and Duchess of Drake spoke with Tim at length about running the duchy, all the little ins and outs and what they jokingly referred to as personality quirks about certain areas. In the palace library, they stood over a detailed map and took notes as Tim pointed things out to them. “In the spring, this stretch of the river will always flood. I’ve asked the tenants here a dozen times to move to higher ground, but they always insist on staying and then asking for aid when half the barn washes away. Perhaps you’ll be able to knock some sense into them.” 

“I think if Kori goes all fire princess on them, she’ll be able to scare them into obeying,” Dick said. 

“My hair only lights on fire when I’m upset.” 

Tim smiled at Kori’s pout. “They’re stubborn mules. Trust me when I say they’ll make you upset.” 

He also spent a number of hours with Kon before the Kandorian prince returned to his homeland. It would be quite some time before the two friends saw each other again and they both knew it. They spoke about many things, but mostly, it was about how Kon knew it was time he needed to grow up and take on more responsibilities back home. 

“Gotta prove to Cassie that I’m not a complete airhead,” he’d said and Tim laughed. 

“You have to convince Bruce and Kal to let you out of that engagement with Helena first.” 

“We’re trying!” 

As fall came to a close and the nights grew colder, Tim and Jason spent their evenings speaking about the future. Namely, how they were traveling from one place to another. 

“I know you love that stupid horse of yours, but even if we were to leave now, it’s going to be the dead of winter by the time we arrive at my cave,” Jason said, his warm body wrapped around Tim as they lay there in bed. “If we fly, two days, tops.” 

“I have nothing against flying, but if we do, then that gives me time to visit some of those families we tracked down,” Tim protested. “Gold is all I can offer and that will help them through the winter.” 

Jason snorted and even though Tim couldn’t see it, he knew the dragon was rolling his eyes. “You just want to have time to build an actual saddle for riding me.” 

“Excuse you, I didn’t hear any complaints this morning.”

In the end, they did consult with a saddlemaker about designing one for a dragon. Tim spent hours holed up with the woman, a true master of her craft who was excited by the prospect of making the first saddle ever known to grace a dragon’s back. 

Jason was less than enthused about it, but he was adamant about not wasting time on horseback. 

The only place to get proper measurements was in the main courtyard at the castle. It was quite the event to watch the dragon reappear in daylight and Tim later learned several people fainted when they saw Mar’i run up to Jason and hug him. 

A series of straps were added to keep a rider in place when Jason took it into his head to do barrel rolls. Which he did at every opportunity saying they were needed to test the fit of the saddle. Tim called bullshit long and loud, usually after his feet were back on the ground and the contents of his stomach were no longer threatening to revisit his taste-buds.

As the dragon’s second favorite human, Mar’i was allowed up on Jason’s back, and they took a flight together out over the ocean once the new saddle met everyone’s satisfaction. Dick was surprisingly not upset at all the entire time as he, Kori, and Tim watched the two frolic in the air from the battlements of the castle. 

“That’s every acrobat’s dream come true, right there,” he said wistfully. 

“Riding on a dragon?” Kori asked. 

“Flying through the air.” 

“I’d rather ride the dragon.” 

Tim snickered because it was such a Kori thing to say. 

The completion of the dragon-saddle meant it was time to leave. Dick helped Tim reassess his travel kit and Bruce gifted him with a new studded jacket to replace the one Janet destroyed. 

“I know you hate chainmail and heavy armor, so please humor an old man and wear this. It’s better lined than your last one,” the king said while watching Tim try it on. 

“I’ll need it,” Tim replied, admiring the fit. “It gets cold up in the air and there’s only so many layers I can wear.”

“Did you get those protective glasses made?” Bruce had been sticking his nose into Tim’s design plans when time allowed, adding his copper’s worth of input. Some of it had even been helpful, and made Tim wonder what his king would have been like had he been able to pursue a more academic line of study. 

“I did. And I figured out why they kept fogging up too.” 

“Oh?” 

Tim launched into the explanation and dug out his own journal to show Bruce the new design he’d come up with after the previous failures. Helena found them still discussing it an hour later when she came to drag them down to dinner.

The day they’d chosen to make their leave dawned bright and cold. Frost coated the courtyard garden, creating a silvery landscape that contrasted starkly against the red, black, and gold of the massive dragon waiting rather impatiently as Tim made his goodbyes. 

“You know you always have a place in Bristol,” Dick was saying to Tim while he still had him wrapped in one of his tight hugs. “No matter what happens or who you become, that is your home.” 

“Thank you, Dick,” Tim replied, trying hard to not choke on his words. “I will be back, someday.” 

“You’d better, Uncle Tim,” Mar’i stated, her little face firmly planted in Tim’s back as he was smooshed between the two Graysons. “I’ll keep your treasures and Uncle Jason’s safe until you can come back.”

Jason growled approvingly. “That’s my girl.” 

Tim took that as his cue to disentangle himself and picked up the last of his bundles, this one with some hot bricks to keep his hands warm. The heights they’d be flying at were fine for the dragon, but not so much for his human rider (even if Jason did provide quite a bit of heat himself). “I’ll return, I promise.” 

Kori yanked Tim into one last embrace before he had a chance to fully escape. “I have spoken with Komand’r about your new journey,” she said quietly. “My sister will gladly offer whatever aid she can if you encounter her on the roads. We believe in you, Tim. Please, help us avenge our home.” 

“I will, Kori. And when I’m ready, you’ll be one of the first people to hear of it.” 

The newly minted duchess nodded as she released Tim, wiping a tear from her eye. “X’hal speed your way.” 

Tim nodded and shouldered his bundle, casting a final look over the ones he loved most. Dick and Kori, little Mar’i who was probably not going to be so little by the time he returned. Helena, bold and brave, standing beside her mother, Selina. The queen had been all too amused when she learned about Jason’s clothing optional habits when in the privacy of his room. Bruce, who had supported him even when by all rights he should have banished him from the kingdom. Even Lord Gordon had shown up to see him off, puffing on his pipe with his brilliant daughter Barbara at his side. 

No more words were needed. Tim strode across the courtyard to Jason and used the knotted rope hanging from the new saddle to climb up and take his place. It was the work of a minute to lash his bundle down and strap himself in. 

“You ready?” Jason rumbled, shifting beneath him as he too readied himself for flight. 

Was he ready to leave everything he’d ever known and start on his next big adventure? Tim flashed a cheeky grin, one that Jason could feel through their bond even if he couldn’t see it. There was only one proper answer to that question. “Hell, yes. Let’s go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! I most certainly did not expect this story to turn out like it did. I imagined a short fantasy and humor-filled romp through the countryside, not the epic drama it's turned into. On that note, this is the end of Part One. 
> 
> Part Two will likely make an appearance around the beginning of the New Year (crosses fingers) as I would much rather have a backlog of chapters to post rather than write on the fly and post as I go, which is what I was doing here. Not my style at all and certainly not a habit I want to keep. I've got it all plotted out, as well as Part Three!  
> 
>  _GASP_  
>     
> Does this mean I'm writing a trilogy? Yes, it does! The series name will become _The Adventures of Sir Timothy Drake_ while the title of this one will likely change to _The Unexpected Proposal_.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, commenting, and your kudos! They mean a lot to me! Also, let's have a big round of applause for my lovely betas, denalian and GoAwayOlivia! The story definitely got better after their hands got involved.
> 
> Until next time!


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